Read Online The Jongurian Mission by Greg Strandberg - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Greg Strandberg
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of papers crowding amongst them for space. Papers were stacked upon the large wooden tables set in the middle of the room, illuminated by a single large lamp glowing off to one side of the room. Chairs were set into the table, but most were pulled out and had stacks of papers sitting on them as well.
“I see the secretary is still out sick,” Halam said as he headed toward a door at the back of the room. Bryn followed, trying to look at the papers and books which lay open around him. Tables of figures stared back at him, and he caught some titles such as “Tillata River Run-off Totals” and “Grain Output of the Northeast Quadrant for years 710 to 713.”
Halam pushed open the door and went through without pause. Inside were two large desks and an equal amount of papers piled just as high as in the other room. Books lay open and scattered on the desks, chairs, and floor, with few actually still on the shelves. A large lamp stood to the side of the room near the window, illuminating the whole room. It was nearly the same as the other room, except a man sat at one of the desks, his back hunched over a ledger, his hand moving furiously along the paper, pausing only to dip it into the inkwell at his right. He made no move to stop as Halam and Bryn entered the room and shut the door behind them, instead raising his left arm to point at the desk next to him.
“The reports on the harvests of the last three years compared to those in Fallownia are ready and on the desk there,” he said, waving his fingers up and down as he pointed. “You’ll find them all accurate and complete, and ready for official stamping.”
“Well it’s about blasted time, I should say, they should have been ready and on my desk a fortnight ago !” Halam said in a stern voice.
The man’s rapid writing came to a furious stop, and Bryn was certain he ’d ruined the page he was working on. He turned his body to the side and peered over his shoulder at them. Seeing Halam, the uncertain look vanished and a wide smile broke out on his face.
“Halam,” he cried, rising from his chair and moving over toward them, “welcome back.” He clasped Halam’s hand tightly and gave him a few slaps on the back.
“Well, burning the midnight oil, I see, eh Rodden? Halam laughed, slapping the man on the back as well.”
“You know how it is these days, Halam, with the council set to meet, they need all kinds of information to keep their clerks busy, figuring this and counting that, not that we haven’t done it all for them countless times already, mind you.”
Rodden was a tall man, taller than Halam by a hand or more when he was standing tall and straight, as he was now, a great change from the initial sight of him stooped over his desk. His hair was blonde but going to grey and cut very short, so that it stood up strait on top of his head. His arms and legs were long and wiry and he was also very thin, possessing none of the muscles of Halam, nor the large belly. He was dressed in a tight-fitting brown linen doublet with long sleeves, and matching leggings.
He smiled at Halam, and then seemed to notice that he wasn’t alone. “And this must be your nephew from Eston,” he said, looking Bryn up and down. “Pleasure to meet you, son,” he said, offering his hand, “my name’s Rodden Stor, trade official for his majesty’s royal court in Culdovia.”
Bryn took Rodden’s hand, surprised at the strength behind it. “Hello sir, good to meet you as well.”
“I trust your ride from Eston was well and uneventful,” he asked Bryn.
“Yes sir, it was.”
“And am I correct in guessing that this is your first time in Plowdon?”
“Why, yes sir, it is at that.”
“And how do you like our fair city, may I ask?”
“I like it just fine, sir, that is, from what I’ve seen of it so far. Uncle Halam and I went through the gate and then came straight here, so I haven’t seen much…at least, I don’t think so,” Bryn said, looking up at his
“I see the secretary is still out sick,” Halam said as he headed toward a door at the back of the room. Bryn followed, trying to look at the papers and books which lay open around him. Tables of figures stared back at him, and he caught some titles such as “Tillata River Run-off Totals” and “Grain Output of the Northeast Quadrant for years 710 to 713.”
Halam pushed open the door and went through without pause. Inside were two large desks and an equal amount of papers piled just as high as in the other room. Books lay open and scattered on the desks, chairs, and floor, with few actually still on the shelves. A large lamp stood to the side of the room near the window, illuminating the whole room. It was nearly the same as the other room, except a man sat at one of the desks, his back hunched over a ledger, his hand moving furiously along the paper, pausing only to dip it into the inkwell at his right. He made no move to stop as Halam and Bryn entered the room and shut the door behind them, instead raising his left arm to point at the desk next to him.
“The reports on the harvests of the last three years compared to those in Fallownia are ready and on the desk there,” he said, waving his fingers up and down as he pointed. “You’ll find them all accurate and complete, and ready for official stamping.”
“Well it’s about blasted time, I should say, they should have been ready and on my desk a fortnight ago !” Halam said in a stern voice.
The man’s rapid writing came to a furious stop, and Bryn was certain he ’d ruined the page he was working on. He turned his body to the side and peered over his shoulder at them. Seeing Halam, the uncertain look vanished and a wide smile broke out on his face.
“Halam,” he cried, rising from his chair and moving over toward them, “welcome back.” He clasped Halam’s hand tightly and gave him a few slaps on the back.
“Well, burning the midnight oil, I see, eh Rodden? Halam laughed, slapping the man on the back as well.”
“You know how it is these days, Halam, with the council set to meet, they need all kinds of information to keep their clerks busy, figuring this and counting that, not that we haven’t done it all for them countless times already, mind you.”
Rodden was a tall man, taller than Halam by a hand or more when he was standing tall and straight, as he was now, a great change from the initial sight of him stooped over his desk. His hair was blonde but going to grey and cut very short, so that it stood up strait on top of his head. His arms and legs were long and wiry and he was also very thin, possessing none of the muscles of Halam, nor the large belly. He was dressed in a tight-fitting brown linen doublet with long sleeves, and matching leggings.
He smiled at Halam, and then seemed to notice that he wasn’t alone. “And this must be your nephew from Eston,” he said, looking Bryn up and down. “Pleasure to meet you, son,” he said, offering his hand, “my name’s Rodden Stor, trade official for his majesty’s royal court in Culdovia.”
Bryn took Rodden’s hand, surprised at the strength behind it. “Hello sir, good to meet you as well.”
“I trust your ride from Eston was well and uneventful,” he asked Bryn.
“Yes sir, it was.”
“And am I correct in guessing that this is your first time in Plowdon?”
“Why, yes sir, it is at that.”
“And how do you like our fair city, may I ask?”
“I like it just fine, sir, that is, from what I’ve seen of it so far. Uncle Halam and I went through the gate and then came straight here, so I haven’t seen much…at least, I don’t think so,” Bryn said, looking up at his
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