The Hare... free on Amazon until December 12... hurry!

http://www.amazon.com/The-Hare-Bow-Girl-Lepus-ebook/dp/B00GCI7RLE/ref=pd_rhf_gw_p_tnr_2

Ray Bradbury's 12 Tips for Writing

Bradbury is my all time go to author. So he was something of a crank before he died, who doesn't have bad days.
These are very insightful tips (direct link) http://www.openculture.com/2012/04/ray_bradbury_gives_12_pieces_of_writing_advice_to_young_authors_2001.html

"Levels" (working Title) first draft done

ok
Kinda weird, but I finished up my first pass at Levels. (Still not sure about that title). It clocks in at a little over 52k words. I need to add a lot of polish to it etc.
The basic story deals with a guy called an "assist" who helps families deal with the "protocol" (the police). A guy, Mr. Mill,  is murdered and then a few days later his granddaughter goes missing. Is there a connection? (well, duh...) the story takes place in a city in which there are "levels" built up over time one layer on top of another. The lower the level you live on the worse off you are. Strict controls make it difficult to move between levels or work your way up. Our hero must make his way through these levels to determine what is going on and what the connection is between the killing of Mr. Mill and the disappearance of 12 women over several years at a local University.

Anyway, hopefully it will read better than my ham handed synopsis!

The Hare, The Bow and the Girl - Chapter Five The Fair

Five - The Fair

 

Both camps broke before dawn. Everyone’s eagerness—well, most everyone—to get to the fair began to infect me too. As we went back to the road we passed a tree. There was the man from last night, looking small and perfectly harmless, tied up to it, his hands behind his back. I looked questioningly at Andrew, who was still heavy with sleep, despite a good breakfast of bread and turnips.

“He’ll be fine. We pass a small village in about two miles. They’ll send some of the King’s men back to deal with him” Andrews said.

“He seemed pretty scared of Walter. Maybe he thought Walter was gonna eat him.”

Andrew laughed. “No, we Lupus are vegetarian, Eric.”

I laughed back. Andrew said nothing more, staring down at the roads as we walked. The absence of his endless chatter of yesterday was noticeable.   “Are you alright, Andrew?” I asked. The others, in their usual way, were ahead of us by a few yards.

“A little sleepy just, sir. It was a rather eventful night, you must admit.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Ever since we came off that path you’ve been…well, quiet.”

Andrew let out a hearty chuckle. “Oh my, and this has you worried? Not my rambling self? Huh, that is telling.” But he said no more as we kept walking.

“Is there something I’ve done or…?”

“No, no, sir. Look, nothing to worry. We’ll be in town tomorrow. I am just going over what I need to do, all the things I must ideal I with once we get there. I’ll get to hand in a report, pay off the fellows, and we can all have a good week.”

“What then?”

Andrew stopped and looked at me. “What then? Well I suppose Smit and Rake will end up drunk in a ditch and have to crawl back to Heatherstone by themselves. Walter and Jet might pick up work…who knows, those two always land on their feet.”

“And you?”

“Ahhh, yes, off to my burrow sir. I suspect that it must be getting many spider webs, unless Miss Elza has cleaned it, which I imagine she has not!”

“Is your burrow near the town? I’d love to visit it one day. Sorry, I didn’t mean to invite myself, but just perhaps stop by on my way back home.”

“Ah yes, well certainly, certainly. Although it is not so near, but yes, why not?” Andrew said in a tone that I recognized to mean that no no such thing would ever really happen. It was like when people off the mountain say “stop by and see us when you’re in town next” and they don’t really mean it.

As the day wore on the road got more and more crowded as we got closer to the town. For the first time I began to notice more rabbits but overall still very few. And more people began to interact with our group. The atmosphere was decidedly getting more festive. I began to get more and more excited. Andrew however, seemed to shrink in size with every step.

By evening there was no escaping the carnival feeling in the air. Even Andrew and Walter loosened up a little. Smit and Rake both eagerly told me that by mid-morning the next day we would be in town and “knee-deep in draught and fat farmer’s daughters.”

For the first time I was able talk to people outside the group. For some reason Walter and Jet, who still had not uttered a word to me, insisted on keeping near me. Unlike before, when the presence of Walter would scare people off, the larger crowd seemed to have more people who were not bothered by him. Perhaps as we neared the town we were encountering more worldly people who were used to the rabbits.

We stopped that evening just short of town, in a large open field that had turned into a make shift camp ground. Smit told me we were still a good walk from the town. I saw Andrew pay a small man at the edge of the field a few coins as we made our way through the open gate. It was the first time I had seen money here.

Our small group, now swallowed up by hundreds of people milling about, made our way to a far corner. This was more at Walter’s insistence than anything else. I think Smit would have dropped down in the smack middle of the camp. But he quietly agreed to come with us. I suspected that until he got paid he would play the role of the good servant.

 

Later, after we set down our goods in a small circle and set a fire, I was sitting, eating my now usual dinner of splinters and bread with Walter, Andrew, and Jet when what I assumed was one of Smit’s fat famer’s daughters sat down next to me. She was actually not fat, but really very pretty and fresh faced. She introduced herself as Penndeleppie.

“Penelope?”

“No, Penndeleppie,” she laughed a sweet laugh.

I smiled and introduced myself. I was feeling pretty special until she lowered her eyes and blushed a little.

“My friends and I,” she nodded over to a small knot of similar young girls, all of whom giggled when I looked over, “we were wondering if you were from Aquatine? Your clothes are so…odd”

My smile faded and I suddenly felt very self-conscious. “Aquatine? Um, no. I’m from Virginia.”

“Where is that?” she asked, confused.

By now Andrew had taken a half interest in the conversation. “Beyond Aquatine young lady, on the, um, coast,” he chimed in, a twinkle in his eye as he winked at me.

“Oh, excuse me sir. Sorry, I had no idea you were with… well, sorry to intrude.”

“No, it’s okay. You can stay if you want,” I protested, but she was already standing up.

“Nice meeting you, Mr. Eric. Maybe I will meet you at the fair,”  she said with a shy smile and with that she raced back to the group of girls, who all looked at her with expectant faces. She said something and their faces went slack and they all turned around and walked back into the crowd. Penndeleppie herself looked back and smiled but then hurried along.

Andrew must have noticed my confusion. But, as was becoming increasingly usual, his attempt to explain things only made me more confused.

“Yes, I had quite not thought of that!” I had no idea what he meant. “Walter and Jet, when we get to the fair you will take Mr. Eric here to get some suitable clothes so that he does not stand out so much. I will give you some coin for them.”

He then leaned in closer to me. “Eric, I had not wanted to say much about anything; I was worried that you might grow concerned but really there is no help for it. In the future it would be best if you were… cautious about telling people too much about yourself. I am a well-traveled Lepus, but I do not pretend to understand everything. The stream you crossed runs a while on the Blackberry border. It is a strange place, even for us Lepus. Very few of your type, people,  have ever come across it and none that I know of have ever gone back. Men here are afraid of those woods. They might mistake you for someone or something they are not happy to know. The lower the profile for you the better.”

“Well ok, sure. What sort of thing would they mistake me fore, exactly.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I am sure. A bandit perhaps, or…”

“Andrew, I know you said you’d never seen fairies or such here-“

“Or talking  scarecrows, don’t forget those!”

“Yes, or those, but, well, this is a strange place-“

“For you.”

“Yes, for me, but well, are there thing I need to worry about?”

Andrew studied me for a moment. “Plenty, but what, exactly, do you mean Mr. Eric?”

“I mean, like, uh, I dunno, witches, casting spells or magic…” I felt foolish even as I said it.

Andrew did not laugh, sensing my embarrassment, but he did smile. “Some people believe what they want to Mr. Eric, but no, no witches, no real ones anyway. There is enough danger and trouble in the world without inventing magical trouble too boot.”

“But, the bamboo, that all seems, well, if not magic, then plenty strange…”

“Yes, well ,that is why it is best not to speak of it. Well bless my stars if it isn’t Mr. Forth!”

I turned to see a large silver rabbit coming across the campsite towards us. Andrew jumped up and hopped over. The two rabbits embraced and fell into a deep discussion. Again, a thousand questions went through my mind, and the peace I had been feeling all day vanished, yet again.

Unfortunately, so had Walter and Jet. Suddenly I did not feel like being so social. I made my way back out to the edge of the campground and found a small embankment to lie down under. I put my quiver and knapsack under my head and looked up the stars, no more familiar than the previous night. Despite my swirling head I found myself drifting off to sleep.

I awoke to the pre-dawn sounds of camp breaking up. I walked around until I found Smit and Rake and soon afterwards Walter and Jet. Andrew was nowhere to be seen.

“Likely he and Mr. Forth went ahead to town,” Walter suggested. “Forth is another surveyor, so they probably are eager to get their report in. Come with us, Eric,” he said somewhat less gruffly than previous days, but still not with what one could call enthusiasm.

“Oh, come now, Mr. Walter. Rake and I can guide young Eric through the fair well enough.”

“Mr. Andrew gave Jet and I specific instructions to stay with Eric.”

“Suit yourself then. If you want to have fun at the fair, Eric, then find us.” And with that Smit and Rake melted into the crowd.

“Don’t worry about them, Eric. They’ll find Mr. Andrew fast enough to get paid.”

I smiled at Walter. I could almost feel the clouds lifting now that Smit had left. “Yeah, don’t’ worry yourself, Walter. The back of those two is better I think by far.”

“Now you’re thinking,” Walter grinned. I realized it was the first time I had ever seen him smile.

The three of walked for less than an hour and found ourselves on a small hill that overlooked the outskirts of the town of Williamsport.

The town was the largest I had ever seen, which I guess isn’t saying much. I had only really been off the mountain proper a few times and never to town. Mom and Dad sheltered me, I know now. And seeing this large town laid out before me from the vantage point of a small hill, it seemed to me like the biggest city in the world. Looking back I guess it wasn’t really that big.

A high wall surrounded a crowded center of the town, but outside the walls sprawled a larger tent city with hundreds of canvases stretched out. They were dozens of colors, some even striped, some patch work. Hundreds of people milled around them as hundreds more streamed down the hill on the road into town. Even beyond the tents were small stalls set up, and beyond them people had simply parked carts and were selling directly off of them. . It seemed the fair itself spilled out of the town around the broad front gate side.

 The town was built to last. The high walls went all the way around and a real-life castle in the center, although not exactly like the ones you see in fairytale books. It had towers at the corners and a large gate in the middle of the front, but the building was a simple affair, more of a large ox than a series of fancy towers. . It wasn’t very big but it was built to project strength.

The town’s streets were crowded, with stone houses taking up every available square foot, even leaning into the street. As I looked down the main street thought he gate I could see all manner of things being sold out in front of each house. It was as if each house doubled as a small shop. So one house would have plates and bowls, the next a selection of shoes and so on. I later learned the shoes were all just models and that if you wanted a pair the shoemaker would custom make you a pair. The houses on the main street were all set up this way, their prime location made them expensive so that only merchants and tradesmen could afford them. 

I didn’t go into the center of town right away. Instead Walter, Jet, and I got off the road and walked along the town wall where the colorful tents were set up. All sorts of goods were being sold, from produce and food to cloth and tools. Everything looked handmade; nothing seemed to come from a store like the ones we had back home.

I wasn’t sure when the fair had started, but all day I noticed more and more people coming into town. They seemed to be of all sorts: rich and poor, pale and dark and every shade in between. Most seemed excited and happy. In many spots performers had set up: jugglers, singers, and even a small stage on a cart with actors performing some pratfalls. If you can imagine something like a-county fair multiply that by 10 or more.

The people wore brightly colored clothes. The women were in long skirts, often festooned with color ribbons or they would have elaborate patterns sewed into the cloth. The men wore mostly trousers, mostly made of plain looking brown or beige cloth. But every so often a man would walk by in almost a costume, a gaudily color over shirt tucked into wide flaring pants of equally gaudy material. They would walk in small groups, often wearing gold jewelry or carrying intricately detailed and bejewel swords. Behind them were always a larger group of plainly dressed men, usually carrying baskets full of goods. Some of the these richly dressed men appeared to be selling, but most were buying.

Walter and Jet and I walked for a while, taking it all in. They seemed almost as amazed and curious as I was. I recalled they had been out surveying with Andrew for some years. Chances are they had not been to many markets this big either. We walked around, gazing at the wide variety of goods for sale. There were bolts of cloth; from plain to one so full of gold thread they sparkled in the sun. There was food, not just the many vegetables that I had seen so far, but all sorts of meat that made my mouth water, fished, hanging sides of beef, lamb and venison. Large pens of chickens and pigs took up some stalls. More than one vendor sold what seemed to be little toys, carved wooden figures that moved when you pushed in a small piece of wood, or balls of tightly wound string, wooden hoops painted in dazzling colors. I was pretty sure that one could have purchased almost anything one wanted, anything this world offered, at this fair.

Finally, after about an hour of strolling Walter cleared his throat.

“Alright Eric, we could wander all day but first things first. Andrew said you need new clothes. Between you and me, I bet we couldn’t dress a naked man, but I think Jet might be able to help. Look, there are a couple of tents with clothes in front. You two go on; I’ll get some rest outside.”

I thought it a little odd that he thought Jet, who had not said one word to me yet, would be of help. I guess he figured that a human was better help than a rabbit. So Jet and I ducked into a large green and white tent. Jet, being his usual talkative self, just shrugged and pointed to the lines of dresses hanging from strings tied to the ceiling. I smirked at him then saw an older lady leaning over a piece of clothing with a needle and thread.

“Excuse me.”

She jumped a little. I think I startled her—either that or my clothing really did seem odd.

“Crowds coming in sooner than I thought,” she said. “What do you need boy? Not a dress I suppose?” 

I bit my tongue. Back home I was old at 19; most of my friends my age had kids already. But maybe I seemed young.

“Uh, no ma’am. I need, um…” I turned to look at Jet for help, but couldn’t see where he was.

“Not from around here I’m guessin’ by the cut of those things. Let me guess, you need something a bit more.. in fashion? You have coin?”

I nodded. “Some, not endless. I just want something average…”

But she was off, looking through several small piles of clothing.

 “Something that might help you get a date tonight?” she winked and laughed at her own joke.

“Sure. Nothing too much, just ,uh, you know…,” I lowered my voice to a whisper, “normal.”

But the woman had already reached behind a barrel in the corner and gotten out a long green shirt and a pair of loose fitting brown pants. The shirt had some black embroidery work where the buttons met. It looked like a twist of black ivy was spilling down the front.

“Here you go now, sweetie. Fit for farming, hunting, and a roll with a farmer’s daughter. Won’t get you past the castle gate, but then again I don’t suppose you’re expecting that.”

“Uh, no. No.” I stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do next. The times I had gone with my mom into town to get Sunday clothes, we had tried them on in the store.

She stood there, the clothes still in her hands. “Anyways, it ain’t the clothes that are keepin’ the girls away I suspect. Here, try these on and if you like ‘em, they’re yours for a cheap price. Then you need to go out and have some fun. I think those tight clothes of yours are cutting off your circulation. Here, step behind the curtain there. I’ll fight off the gals!” she laughed again.

I decided pretty much right then that however they looked I would just get them and go. I did not want to hang out any longer than I had too. As I stripped down I felt a sudden panic rise up in me. I guess I realized that I was in this whole affair, the whole world, now for more than a lark. I was like a snake shedding my skin.

The clothes fit well enough. I can’t say I looked sharp, but I did feel like I fit in more. I stepped back out and noticed Jet standing in the tent’s entry. Walter’s big frame was outside.

Jet eyed me and smirked. “You look fine. Pay the woman and let’s go.”

I can tell you that as many shocks as I had had in the previous few days this was by far the biggest. Jet had not only spoken but, well, she had spoken! I am sure the look on my face conveyed every thought that flashed through my head. Jet looked back at me, rolled her eyes, and leaned out of the tent.

“For the love of heaven above, Walter! Did you forget to mention I was a girl?” she yelled, her eyes ablaze. A loud and hearty laugh came from outside. Jet ducked out of the tent and I could hear Walter give an ooff as if he had been shoved.

“It is not a rabbit’s job to tell men who the other men are. I can barely keep track myself!”

“Ah, go shove a carrot up your—”

“Jet, come back!” Walter boomed as she stormed off into the crowd. Walter turned around and poked his head into the tent. He wrinkled his nose then winked as the woman shot him a look.

“Pay her up, Eric, and be quick. Jet’ll cool off in a bit but I don’t want to spend all day looking for her.”

The woman named a price and seemed disappointed that I didn’t haggle. I had to remember that in the future.

Outside I felt noticeably better and cooler in the loose fitting clothes. I had wrapped up my old clothes in a bundle and shoved them in my knapsack.

“Never understood how you men cannot tell each other apart without so many disguises.”

“It’s kinda important, Walter. Isn’t it for Lepus too?”

“Ha! We rabbits can smell, you know. That’s all you need.”

“Well, how do I look?” I asked, holding my arms out to my sides.

Walter gave a quick snort, “Like a stuffed pig. Come on, let’s look for Jet before she beats up some guy for looking at her wrong—or worse, drinks him under the table.”

 

There the old man stopped for a while. Riley held his breath, waiting for the next part of the story, until he was certain that the old man had fallen asleep. The night was now dark. Faint sounds of a TV came from the living room where Riley’s mother, back from work, was fast asleep herself on the couch.

“Well!” the old man suddenly exclaimed, “time for bed I’d say.”

“But wait Paw Paw. That didn’t explain anything! Are you waiting for the Walter rabbit to come get you or what? Is that why you’re sitting here every night? Did you like Jet or something?”

“Boy, it’s late. And no, that’s not the whole story. There’s more; a lot more. And no, I did not fall for Jet. But I tell you what: there is more and there is a girl; a wonderful, amazing girl.”

“Who is she? Was she the farmer’s daughter, what’s-her-name?”

The old man laughed and gently pushed himself up.

“Good night, Riley. Not a word of this to your mom and I’ll tell you some more tomorrow night, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks again, Paw Paw.”

“You already thanked me for the knife, Riley.”

“Not the knife: the story.”

 

Next CHAPTER: coming soon!

The Hare is on Smashwords now

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/498309

Smashwords is a great site that lets you preview 15% of a new book for free. It also offers cross platform ebook formats (will work on any device).

Why the focus on Word Count for new works of fiction?

Just ticked over 47 words (47,111 to be exact) on my new book "Levels" (or "Lift" or "Climbers" ... still not sure what the heck to call it).
Why the focus on the number of words? Well, it seems that the industry uses word count as a sort of gatekeeper. This strikes me as both useful (until I get to a certain number certain publishers will not even look at the book) and, at the same time, terribly not useful.
Quantity is, of course, no indicator of quality. My first book, The Hare, The Bow and the Girl, was 33k words. Whether is was good or bad certainly was not reflected in that count. When I approached Amazon about it they flat out told me, within minutes of submission, that they did not look at anything under 45k words. Fair enough.
So I sat down and added about 17k words, or so, to get over the 45k hump. Doing that did not make the book better, in and of itself. But, I did feel that going back and revisiting the book after letting it sit for almost a year, allowed me to add to the book, clarifying some scenes, inserting other scenes that fleshed out characters, etc. The act of revision what was mattered here, not the act of added words.
I am still not entirely sure why 45k or 50k is some sort of magic number. That's under 150 pages (on a kindle). Most "serious" books I read are usually 200-300 pages, or more even. All The Turns of Light (Paths of Shadow Book 2) by Frank Tuttle is 250 pages, that's plenty more. The Fault in our Stars is 337 pages. Does that make TFIOS 1/3 better than Tuttle's book? Both are good books (although, to be fair, TFIOS is an instant classic, but if you like great steampunk fiction Tuttle's is cool as heck!)
Could it be that some stories really don't lend themselves to 150 plus pages? Are they less serious literature because of their length?
I don't have an answer really. As metrics go, word count is more useful than say number of chapters or page numbers (both of which are easily manipulated). Still, it feel like a strange way to approach fiction.
D H Richards

Chapter four- The Thief

[Just one chapter this week, long one!]

Four – The Thief

 

 

We reached a small clearing on the bottom of the next ridge. People had used it before- there was a small ring of blackened stones for a fire. Smit and Rake broke out some bread and raw cabbage rolls called splinters; they were filled with spices and vegetables. They tasted very good. I wasn’t sure if it was the spices or just that, as I realized, I had not eaten since breakfast. I commented on how tasty they were. Andrew smiled and even Walter had a somewhat surprised look, follow by a shrug as he turned his back to me. I, for one, was pretty tired and lay down. I feel into a deep dark sleep almost immediately.

When I awoke it was just dawn. Smit handed me some more bread, now with cheese.

“Sleep well princess?” Walter gruffly sulked past me. I looked at Smit with a question

“He’s mad at ya ‘cause you didn’t do a watch last night. You were out pretty cold.”

“A watch? Oh. Sorry!” I called out. “I had no idea. Why didn’t anyone wake me?” I asked Smit.

“Yeah, well, Walter weren’t so keen on that idea. Says he don’t trust you. I think he likes to have something to hang over your head.”

We walked all that day, with Andrew talking almost the whole way. He told me a lot about Blackberry. I asked him if there were trains in Blackberry.

He smiled. “Your mountain has more machines than we do, Eric. Trains, automobiles…you won’t find them here.”

“To be honest we don’t have many on the mountain, either. I’ve seen a couple of trucks come up the road from time to time, but folks where I come from can’t afford a car. But I have a question Andrew, sometimes you and Walter seem to be twitching and sniffing at each other. Is Lepine the language? Do you speak it to each other still?”

“All the time,” Andrew said, again smiling as if he had told a joke. It dawned on me that there was a lot more going on than I could see on the surface.

“This town we’re going to-“

“Williamsport.”

“I thought that was the kingdom next door?”

“Williamsdale. A log story, but essentially the history of this valley starts in Williamsdale, or what used to be called the Tennant low country. Some people still refer to it as such. Early, where we are now, was Tennant high country.”

“And the other?”

“I will get there soon enough. Rutledge was just referred to the land before the end of land. As I was saying, in the low lands of Tennant there was a large group of peoples, clustered around a pair of rivers that gave famers in the valley water and rich soil for their crops. Early on few people lived in the high country, it was heavily wooded, as you can see” Andrew gazed up at the trees, which seemed endlessly tall and endless over the horizon.

“There was a great king in the low country-“

“Let me guess, his name was William.”

“A clever guess, but no. His name was Karnelle. His son was William. William was a proud and ambitious son. His father knew he was restless and in order to give structure to this restlessness he sent his son with an army to conquer the high country. Although the people were few, they were fierce and it look seven long years for William to subdue the peoples here in Early.”

“Why is it Early? Another king?”

Andrew laughed. “No one knows, although the joke is that since we are furthest East as well as South we see the sun first, therefore we are early!”

I cocked my head, Andrew guffawed but then his smile vanished when he saw I did not laugh.

“It is not a difficult joke lad!  So, well, William finally did conquer the high country and set up a capital-“

“Williamsport”

“Ahem, yes. So, as I was saying, he set up a capital. But within a year his father died and so he went back to the low country to rule his new kingdom from there. But while the cat is away, the mice will play, no? Although William was a great king and his reign was peaceful and long, some say he was 96 when he died and he had ruled for 70 years, it was not to last. After his death, the kingdom, William’s Dale, splintered and the high country folk broke from the low country.”

“So, in the end William was successful though.”

Andrew looked at me with a slight smile. “Yes, it has been many years, maybe hundreds, but yes. Now the Kingdom of William, of Tennant, will exist again. Not soon however, one hopes.” Andrew said the last part under his breath.

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Why not soon?”

“Oh.” Andrew seemed caught out. Then he laughed “There is so much to be done young man! Maps to be made, lists to be compiled. The evil work of the Bureaucrat is never done!”

“I never meant to-“

“I know lad, just teasing!” Andrew said.

“So what do all these people do then, than live here?”

“Farmers mostly, except for the town where the tradesmen are.”

“No wonder I feel comfortable. Where do you fit in?”

“Well, most Rabbits are… most work for others. It can be a problem, but we are new here, relatively speaking. A few of us own land, few farm, but most work for the king or tradesmen. The town folk are a bit more… welcoming.”

“So are you farm or town folk?”

“Oh town, town for sure. I require only the best!” he said, laughing and patting his large belly that hung underneath his body. “I could never spend all day in the fields. How about you Mr. Eric?”

“Famer here, myself. Not a very good one, but my father kept orchards, plus we farmed vegetables…Do you have a house then in Williamsport?”

“Oh, goodness no. We Lepus prefer burrows mostly. There is a singular delight in settling down for a nice nap in the damp earth.”

“I bet” I said before I could think. Andrew gave a low chuckle.

“Don’t worry lad, there will be plenty of places to bunk down in once we reach Williamsport.”

 

There was a lot more; too much for me to remember and tell now. But the best thing was that talking to Andrew kept me from Walter and Jet. After Walter had pinned me down the previous day I did not trust him in the least. Those rabbits looked soft and funny, but they were strong as hell—at least Walter was.

About mid-morning we came across a small clearing planted in what looked like young corn. The plants were about two feet tall. The plot of land was not big, I figured less than half an acre, and based on the number of stumps still visible in the field, the land was newly cleared. We stopped at the edge of the clearing. Andrew immediately sat down and took out a long narrow book from his bag and began to look through the pages. Evidently this was not out of the ordinary. Walter and Jet stood furthest out in the field, looking all around it. Smit and Rake stood next to Andrew’s reclining figure with bored looks on their faces.

“How far are we from the road Smit?” Andrew asked. Smit screwed up his face and looked up into the sky, as if the answer was written up there. I guess it must have been because a moment later and looked back down at Andrew and said “Hour, or so.”

“Hour and a half” Walter shouted back. A look of irritation crossed Smit’s face but he did not say anything. Andrew snorted.

“Thank you Smit. At any rate I don’t see a settlement this close. Suppose it’s new?”

Smit shrugged.

“Six months, maybe older, but this field, three months, or less.” I said. Andrew, Smit and Rake looked at me. Andrew gave a wide smile and tilted his head.

“None of your are farmers huh?” I said, also smiling. Smit and Rake shook their heads. “Well, the corn, if that is what that is” I gestured to the open field”was planted about six weeks ago. I count at least a good dozen trees, if you’re going to saw them down by hand that’ll take a few weeks. Nobody starts with the field, they build a house first, that’ll take month or so... and there you go, six months. If this is a homestead, that’s what this is right?”

Andrew guffawed and got up. “Well done lad, hard to say what this is, it’s not on the maps and wasn’t here when we left.”

“When was that?” I asked.

“Four years ago” Smith said, almost under his breath.

“Walter, come here!” Andrew shouted. “Young Mr. Eric here says we might have a new settlement.”

Walter sighed, but did not look at me. “Well, of course it’s new; I don’t recall anything here on the way out. Want to send Smit on ahead?”

“Yes. Smit, you know the drill, we’ll follow at a distance.”

“Yes Sir Mr. Andrew!” Smit said, his sickly obsequious nature was back. He grabbed Rake and they proceeded across the field.   Andrew waited until they were halfway across and then began to leisurely follow.

“Why did you send them ahead?” I asked when we were under way.

“Um, well, people are not always excited to see rabbits hopping across their fields. Best to let them see Smit first and then we’ll introduce ourselves. Less of a shock.”

I did not say anything, but inside I agreed, recalling my own shock of seeing Walter for the first time.

As we came to the other side of the clearing we could see several structures in the woods. It was some sort of community, and based on the look of the wood used for the houses, a new one at that. Smith had no sooner reached the edge of the field and was about ten yards from the first building when a large man holding an ax out from him stepped in front of Smith.

“Clear off!” he bellowed. We could easily hear him from the middle of the field. Walter put up a paw to stop Andrew and me from advancing.

“Morning sir!” Smit said, his voice dripping with politeness. I was appreciating the wisdom of Andrew in sending Smith first. Rake hung back a pace, looking down at the ground.

“Clear off mister, we don’t want no trouble.”

“Nor we sir!” Smit’s voice was loud but friendly. “I am part of a survey crew and we had not noticed your…” Here Smith stopped and looked around, clearly trying to describe what he saw in way both accurate and polite “dwelling.”

“Survey crew?” the large man screwed up his face in thought. “Like for what?”

“The king sir, we have been sent out to map-“

“I don’t want no tax collector’s here, shove off” The man had the ax now level with Smit.

“We are no tax collectors I assure you. All we wish to do is to note-“

“I said, take off, while you got legs to do the walking!” the man said slowly, and in a low growl. Next to me Andrew nodded at Walter and the tow of them began to walk across again, coming into sight of the man with the ax after a few steps. The man’s mouth fell open, but then he looked from Smit to the two rabbits and Jet. I had decided to hang behind a few steps.

Recognition was slow, but for a second no one spoke a word. Finally the man with the ax looked at Smith.

“This your crew? They, them Rabbits with you?” he said, his voice unsure.

“Yes sir.” Smit said, I could see sweat rolling down the back of Smit’s neck.

“Really don’t need no rabbits.” The man said in a low voice to Smit, but all of us could clearly hear him.

“All we needs a few minutes mister.” Smit began again, “To write down-“

“No! Nobodies writing anything down, no one’s gonna asses my property…”

“If I may Sir,” Andrew said with a large smile on his face and in his voice. “As my assistant Smit said, we are no tax collectors.”

“Assistant? So you’re the guy I gotta deal with? Why send him then?” The man said, shaking his head towards Smit, but his attention now focused on Andrew.

“Well Sir, some folks, well, some folks might be a wee bit surprised to see Lepus coming out of their garden.”

“Got that right” the man with the ax laughed, but kept the ax out in front of him. “Still, need you to clear out. King’s men are nothing but trouble. Once you get me on that map of yours then next thing you know I’ll get tax collectors comin up around here.”

“My dear Sir, tell me, is there a sheriff nearby?”

The man stopped for a moment and narrowed his eyes. “Won’t do you no good to come back with that bastard.”

“No, no, I only ask because he’s the one who would do the taxes, not us. If the sheriff knows you’re here then, well, you know what he’ll be wanting in the fall, regardless of what we do today.”

The man lowered his ax and stood there a moment thinking.

“You might be right, but still, you put us down in that map and the king’ll be wantin to tax us left and right…”

Andrew laughed a slight chuckled, the man’s face went stormy but Andrew ignored it.

“My good man, please. I know nothing about farming or woodsmen, but I do know a few things about the king’s court. When I present my books, and there are several, it will join many other survey parties’ books. All of these books will end up in the hands of the king’s minister and as they pour through these books they will come upon your settlement…” Andrew spread his paws and looked at the an. The man looked back for a second.

“Oh! Uh, well, we just calls it the Aways, you know, we’re a ways away…

“Hmmm, no good. What is your name sir?” Andrew asked.

“Thomas”

“How about Thomasburgh? No, Thomasville, then.”

The man stood there, thinking for a moment, a smile came across his face. “Alright. I like it.”

“Very good, now about how many people live here” Andrew asked, his book open now and a pen in hand.

“Oh no mister Rabbit! You were telling me about the ministers?”

“Oh yes, sorry.” Andrew said, with only faint trace of annoyance. “The ministers, they will open my book, look down the list and come across Thomas…ville! And see that only a few people live here, about…”

Andrew looked expectantly at the man, who stood there.

“About how many people are here sir?” Andrew finally asked. The man looked up towards the sky and counted with his fingers.

“Fifteen!”

“Fine, about fifteen people live here. Good amount to tax, no?”

Thomas’s face went dark. “What?”

“A good amount to tax, this is what the ministers will say.” Thomas moved and swung his ax up, his face turning red. Andrew held up a paw.

“They will say that but then, they will look again at the book and see, um… Todd’s Town, the next town on the list, and see that the population of Toddstown is 350-“

“356’ Rake interjected, causing everyone to jerk their heads his way. His face turned beet red. “Sorry.” He squeaked.

“356, and that, my good sir, will excite them much more than 15 poor farming souls. Trust me, you will be on the map but you will be safely ignored as you are today.”

Thomas lowered his ax and seemed mollified. “Ok then, you got the name and how many of us there is, now will you leave?”

“Yes, yes, just let me look around, some buildings. Any streets?”

Thomas looked at Andrew as if he had just asked if they had access to the moon. “Ummm.. no.”

“Good, good. Access to the main road?”

 “There’s a path off there” the man pointed to a place beyond the last building in the woods. “Ain’t no road, just a path”

“Excellent. Well! Smit, Rake, I would say our work is done. And so, sir, we are off” Andrew said. “No harm done or intended.”

“Alright.” Thomas said simply, still a little confused and clearly not entirely convinced no harm had been done.

“We’re on the path on the other side of the field Thomas, so we’ll be off.” Andrew said, putting his notebook away.

We left Thomas standing there and we made our way back across the field.

“No one else was there, did you noticed?” I asked Andrew when we were out of earshot.

“They were there, Saw a few in the big house, a few more behind some of the out buildings. Walter said gruffly.  “Need to keep your eyes open farmer; you’ll be dead before the week is out.” Walter finished with a laugh, but his face said he was serious.

I chose to ignore Walter and spoke again directly to Andrew. “That was great talking back there Andrew. I thought we were going to get chopped up.”

“Nothing to it young Eric. Comes with the job, people hate nosy government types.”

“So you reckon the king really won’t tax them?” I asked, doubtfully. Smit gave out a sharp barking laugh. Andrew looked at him askance.

“The king, Eric, will not leave a single brass coin on the table. The moment my report shows a new settlement they will be out here busy making sure it is proper.”

“And properly taxed” added Smit.

“But, but we just told them… aren’t your worried?”

“About what my young friend? It will be months from now and we will be miles away from here, never to set foot back in this godforsaken spot!”

 

Late in the afternoon we came to the edge of the forest and our path we had followed ended at the edge of a larger road. After two days of only seeing the two rabbits and three people I was with it took me a moment to take in the dozens of people traveling the road. Some had carts pulled by large oxen, others pulled their own small carts. The carts were piled high with produce, boxes, and bags. The people themselves were dressed in clothes of all sorts of colors; hardly anyone was dressed as plain as I was. There were men, women, and children, many with skin darker than mine even.

What I did not see any of were other rabbits. As we stood there for a moment letting large group of travelers by I noticed only a few even bothered to look our way. A few did a double take but most simply walked by, quietly.

After the large group passed the road was empty.

“Oh I do hate getting back to civilization. It makes us Lepus nervous you should know. Come along now Mr. Eric.”

I had to agree somewhat with Andrew. The sudden meeting of all those people reminded me of home for a moment. Most days I would see few people, but on at church.  I would often see more people in a few hours at church than I would see all week. Sunday afternoons were spent milling around the edge of the graveyard with a fried drumstick in hand or a slice of watermelon. I have fond memories of playing with other kids, my brothers and sisters. Yet already that felt like something in the distant past. I could recall it but I had realized I had little desire to go back to it. And even that desire had faded since that first afternoon here.

The road was dusty, and there was less shade than in the woods. The hot sun has spent the day warming the road and by the time the sun was low in the sky the heat and dust combined to remind me of the low flatlands back home, of town,  a less pleasant memory than church. Other groups passed us from time to time, riding oxen or walking in small groups, all eager to get to the fair, or eager to get beyond our group. Not one person said hello or even smiled. It was strange. I had to stop myself from waving to passersby. You know how we might wave to someone we don’t even know? Not so here.

The mood had changed. Andrew was no longer chatty. He barely said five words that afternoon. And Walter and Jet stayed much closer to the rest of our group. Smit, on the other hand, began to hum. His smile was bigger, less obsequious. Rake often looked anxious, but even his attitude seemed more self-assured.

When night fell we found a clearing next to a larger camping area. But still several dozen yards away. Neither Andrew nor Walter seemed especially interested in camping with the main group, despite Smit’s protestation that it would be safer.

After another supper of the splinters I asked about the watches, determined this time to pull my weight. .

“Don’t worry about it” grumbled Walter.

“It’d be nice to have an extra hand Mr. Walter, since we’re so far from the others...”

“I said don’t worry about it Smit! Eric here owes us no watch. Besides, I feel safer when he’s asleep.”

Smit shrugged. Andrew did not look up from his suddenly fascinating empty bowl. I returned Smit’s shrug. No sense getting into a fight over something like this.

I rolled up my coat in a spot away from the others by just a little. As I lay down and stared up at the sky I was confused to say the least. The mood of the party had changed once we found the main road. Smith and Rake seemed excited, but the two rabbits seemed to shrink in size. And Jet, who had yet to say anything that I could hear, seemed to live in Walter’s shadow.

Unlike earlier in the day, I was beginning to have serious doubts about just exactly what I was doing. I had left everything I knew behind and was now in some strange dream that seemed real, that felt real but yet was so unreal. The changes brought on by the road had given me pause.

I wrestled with a thousand thoughts. I felt I should turn around and go back, although I was not sure to what exactly. My parents were dead. Relatives all a long and expensive train ride away. True, there were girls I fancied and who fancied me, but somehow that felt so far away from where I was at that time. Here was new, different, and until that afternoon kind of exciting in the way new and different things often are.

But now I wasn’t so sure, now the new and different seemed strange and slightly menacing. It did seem Walter was warming up, but his remarks about the watch showed me he hadn’t really changed much. Andrew had hinted here and there about the relationship between Lepus and humans, but it was becoming clearer to me that there was a serious underlying friction. Certainly there were very few Lepus to be seen.

I stared up at the stars. They seemed right to me, but then again I never was much at remembering where the constellations were. I half thought about how I might wake up, in my bed at home, the whole thing a dream.

But right then I was not the least bit tired. As the others settled in a few asleep I lay there awake. I noticed Rake had the first watch while the others slept under a large poplar tree. As I lay there I also thought about Rake and Smit. Something was off about them, well at least Smit. Rake seemed to be just a sidekick, but Smit was decidedly not. He bowed and scraped and shuffled his feet in front of the Rabbits, but behind their back with me he suddenly became a different, more assertive person. Smit, more than any of the others, was happiest about being so close to the fair. I think spending the past several years working for a rabbit had gotten to him. I had seen that at home, men who worked on the orchards for a Mexican work boss often felt the need to over assert themselves, as if to make up for working under people they felt were their inferiors.

As I lay there I looked back over to see that Rake had fallen asleep, his head resting on a large stick he had found in the woods while looking for firewood. Clouds had rolled in and the stars blinked out. A slight breeze picked up, stirring leaves. The fire had burned to glowing red embers. As I watched them slowly die I made up my mind to turn around in the morning. Things just were not adding up and I was feeling suddenly less secure than at any point since coming through the bamboo. There was a lot about the place I did not know or understand. I had never been off the mountain, much less to some magical dream where there were six foot tall talking rabbits and God knows what else waiting around the bend of the road. I realized I had been foolish. Something felt off, I could not put my finger on it, but it was nagging at the base of my brain. Plus, I was sure Walter would be glad to see the back of me.

The embers’ glow grew fainter and still I couldn’t sleep. I almost considered getting up and leaving then, but I knew I could find my way back to the path in the dark. As the clouds thinned and a half moon turned its glow on the camp I finally began to feel sleepy.

But it was just then that I noticed something in the blackness next to the tree, right beside the sleeping form of Walter. I could not make out anything. I even told myself it was just shadows from the moonlight. But then it moved, ever so slightly, ever so slowly.

I told myself that I was overreacting, that I had spooked myself, but just in case I silently slide my hand down to where my bow and quiver lay beside me. As quietly as I could I grabbed an arrow and drew the bow up to my chest. I lay deadly still, trying not to breathe, seeing nothing. I almost relaxed when I saw the blackness move again. As it moved a shape began to emerge against the night sky. It was a person definitely a man, a large one. And in the moonlight there was a glint as he raised his arm above Walter. A large blade came out of a long sleeve, and reflected the moonlight for a second. By reflex I brought up the bow and arrow so quickly I barely even knew what I was doing. The arrow whistled and thunk! It fixed the man’s sleeve hard to the tree behind him. Not letting go of the blade, the man silently, but urgently tried to pull the arrow out, but it was too late.

“HEY!” Walter hopped up and with a mighty thump pressed the man against the tree. “Put down yer arm man!” Walter growled, his nose twitching, breathing out. The man made small noises.

“I said put it down!”

“I…I carn’t” the man squeaked. Walter looked away briefly and saw the arrow.

“Drop the knife then or so help me I’ll tear you in half pisser!” Walter said in a low rumble, as if afraid to wake up the rest of the camp. The man looked around, but seeing no one else gave a look of resignation. With a clang the knife dropped. The noise caused Rake to snuffle awake.

“Mr. Walter!” Rakes cry woke up the rest. Jet popped up and quickly grabbed the knife. The man, still being pressed against the tree was half sobbing now.

“I ain’t doin’ nothing now, Mister Hare, sir!”

“Shut it man or you’ll never talk again.” Walter used his large paw to quickly frisk the man. He never took his eyes from the now whimpering but silent man.

“This your arrow, Eric?” Walter asked.

“Yes.” I was standing now as was Andrew, Smit and Rake. We were all awake.

“Well, come and get it then. I think it’s best if you had all your arrows, yes?”

“Yes.” I carefully shouldered my quiver and got up to walk over to where Walter was standing. Walter took the arrow shaft at the base and with a great tug pulled it out of the tree

“Good thing he missed you man. This thing’d gone straight through your hand.”

“I didn’t miss Walter.” I gently took the arrow from him and placed it back in my quiver.

The man let out a small eeek.

By now men with torches from the main campsite had come over to see what the commotion was about. One of them, a large man in generally better clothes than the rest came forward.

“What’s this all about then?”

“Th-th-the hare, he done…ech!”

Walter pinned the man even tighter against the tree.

“Mr. Lepus here and I had a misunderstandin.’”

“For love ‘n money, Jackal…I knew you were trouble; just didn’t know you were stupid. Apologies, Mr,…?”

“Walter.” His eyes grew narrow in the light of the torches. “He with you?”

“Not likely, Mr. Walter. But I know him. He joined us a few days ago, a pilgrim on the way to the fair he says. We’re an upstanding bunch Mr. Lepus I can assure you. Never would have let him near us if I had known he’d cause this kind of trouble. We’ll deal with him… if you don’t mind?”

Walter Shoved the trembling man towards the group of torches.

“No fur from me. Do what you want. Just make it stick. If I ever see your face again man, there won’t be these here” Walter gestured to the people behind the thief, “to stop me. Understood?”

“Not to worry. He’ll be taken care of.” The well-dressed man said.

The large man and several others hustled Jackal off into the night. To me it sounded like he was out of the frying pan into the fire, but the man seemed almost relieved to be off to a fate other than whatever Walter had planned.

Walter turned to me; his eyes looked slightly confused but steady.

“Thank you, Eric. If you had not been awake…” he glared at Rake.

“It was nothing, really. You would have woken up, only poorer I suspect.”

“Hmmph. I would not have woken up at all, I suspect.”

Andrew hopped forward and put an enormous paw on my arm.

“Thank you Eric. You did well, I suspect” he turned to see Walter deep in conversation with Jet, “I suspect that Walter owes his life.”

“I was only reacting, he would have done the same.”

Andrew did not reply but simply arched his eyebrows.  

Despite the excitement I felt sleepy after just a little while. Walter and Jet were now both keeping watch and the fire well stoked and burning brightly. For the first time since crossing over I felt almost at home.

Almost.

 

NEXT CHAPTER: http://dhrichards.blogspot.com/2014/12/the-hare-bow-and-girl-chapter-five-fair.html