Chapter 17
“Pardon, do you have a moment?” Claudio knocked on Matthew’s door.
Getting permission to come up here had been easy, since the woman on duty knew him on sight.
She’d almost certainly assumed it was some sort of Penelope business, which it was, twice over.
The door had been open, which made this easier and harder.
Matthew started visibly, then cleared his throat. “Yes? Yes. More than one.” Then he took in Claudio, dressed for the outdoors, satchel over his shoulder. “Is something the matter?”
“I wanted to tell you I almost certainly won’t be at the meeting Tuesday.
Getting called out to the wilds of Northumberland.
Or the Scottish Borders. Both, probably, in some sort of sequence.
” Good grief, he was babbling. “Going at least twenty miles from the nearest portal, and it’s rough ground for a lot of it. Horses can only go so fast.”
“Of course you ride,” Matthew said it under his breath, but Claudio had well-trained ears and good hearing. His mouth quirked up, and Matthew grimaced.
“I do. Enough to be workmanlike about it. I know much better riders. Gabe, for one. Anyway, we’re almost certainly going to be gone until at least next Wednesday, possibly longer.
I’ll copy out my notes on the current stage of the saffron debate from my side when I get a chance. Tonight or tomorrow.”
“You— um. What does one say in this case? Take care, be safe, don’t break a leg? I know that’s for theatre, though the other way round.” Matthew’s hand opened and closed on the desk, a little unevenly.
“I’ll take whichever blessing you like. And I’ll be with other people.
Gabe for a little, and two other Penelopes.
I’m along partly to help train one of them, gods help us all.
” Hannah Albright was learning fast, but she had spent little time so far from civilisation, and that was a whole new set of skills.
“I’ll write you in the journal, if you like.
There are usually some good stories and some interesting wildlife. ”
“Sure. Please. I mean. If you’re not busy with all the other things you’re doing.
I’ll miss you keeping things moving in the meeting.
” There was a tiny hesitation, then Matthew added, “And company for a drink after. Let me know when you’re back?
” Matthew half stood now. “Are you heading off immediately?”
Claudio would miss the drink too, and he certainly enjoyed having his own skills appreciated when it came to the meeting.
He spread his hands, offering a little smile.
“Finish packing, then yes. There’s a place we can stay at if we can make it fifteen miles tonight.
But it always takes longer than anyone thinks to get the packs together and everyone on a horse.
Well, certainly longer than Gabe thinks it should take. ” Claudio shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
“Good luck with getting everyone moving, then.” Matthew apparently realised he’d almost stood up, and sat down with a slight thump in his chair. “And we’ll miss you Tuesday.”
Claudio made a half-salute and went off.
The actual process at the Guard Hall was blessedly efficient.
Gabe had in fact applied himself to the problem, and they sorted out who was taking which gear and which horse easily enough.
It meant Gabe and Claudio could detour through the portal to the Veritas stables.
There it was a matter of only a few minutes to tack up Gabe’s mare and Claudio’s usual borrowed one.
Gabe’s Meliora was getting up there for a horse taking on more exertion, but they didn’t expect the actual riding to be terribly demanding.
Handspun, the bay mare Claudio usually rode, was younger and fitter.
By half-four, they’d reached the bastle house where they were staying the night, barely beating a downpour as they unloaded the horses.
The livestock, at least, had a sheltered barn under the house.
That was a bit of architecture Claudio had read about and heard Orion expound upon.
But he’d never actually had a chance to be in and around one for a night.
They’d been designed as fortified homes, with the door to the living space on the first floor.
During the many years the border reivers had been an active threat, the only way up to the door would have been a ladder.
That would have been pulled in at night before the door was barred.
Reivers hadn’t been an issue for ages, and the current owners had built a wooden set of stairs around the outside.
Gabe, Claudio, and Albright saw to the horses, letting Betts— her apprentice mistress— set up inside.
Betts was enough older than Gabe— and a lot less likely to be found on a horse— that she was aching from the ride and the weather, both.
Gabe refused to answer when asked if his bad ankle was troubling him, and Claudio had learned long since not to ask.
If Gabe needed something different, he’d say so.
The family fed them well, telling them that the entire area had been grouse shooting for centuries, all open moorland and sheep.
But in the 1920s, the government had planted it for timber, with an eye to future needs.
The trees were getting to a good and usable size now, but Claudio wasn’t sure what he thought about the change.
That might or might not be relevant for the actual reason they were here, of course.
There had been sightings of several odd animals, and that was something the Penelopes looked at.
Gabe, for his part, had Council business nearby, and would be heading off for a few days to do that.
Nearby was, Claudio expected, an entirely relative term.
But it made some sense that Gabe had wanted to know other people were close enough to help if another pair of hands was needed.
And, well, it’d be good training for Albright, who needed seasoning with fieldwork.
It was interesting to be up this far north, too.
The war had certainly touched Northumberland, but much differently from the damage in the Blitz across London and southern England.
There were few scars visible on the land.
And to be frank, there wasn’t much here to bomb, not people, not factories, not aerodromes.
Not like the port cities, or the damage from mines in the North Sea and all the other bits of ocean.
Claudio tucked that away to think about more when he had a chance, and maybe time to go make a few other visits through portals to other spots to compare.
Once they’d had supper— a hearty venison stew, the deer were apparently abundant in these parts— the rain had stopped.
The four of them settled outside in the sunset to chat and not be too annoyingly present for their hosts.
Albright had been idly working through a series of charms as the other three of them chatted, routine ones about the environment. Suddenly, she squawked. “There! See?”
Claudio looked and saw the blue sheen that indicated some sort of potential illness. Then he saw the shape of it and nudged Gabe’s arm. Gabe looked, then laughed. “That’s a squirrel.”
“It’s an ill squirrel!” Albright sounded entirely offended by the fact. “What if— I mean? Rats.”
“Rats and squirrels are two entirely different animals, and utterly different vectors for disease.” Gabe leaned back, entirely casual. “Also, the squirrels rarely come inside.”
Betts snorted. “You’re not helping, Gabe.” She had enough seniority on him— she’d just finished her apprenticeship when he’d started— that she didn’t have any hesitation in teasing him.
“Was I supposed to be right now?” Gabe sounded entirely innocent for a second, then said agreeably, “Red squirrels— not the grey ones that were introduced more recently— show up when you do the charm that indicates leprosy. No one’s at all sure what that actually means.
We just know what the charm says. Before you panic, we also know that leprosy takes a long close exposure, and most people don’t actually become ill with it.
Not actually a meaningful risk unless you actually take up training one as a pet or something of the kind.
Just an interesting fact. Consider it part of your training to get more practice differentiating the two. ”
Albright looked entirely dubious about it, so Claudio added, helpfully, “Grey squirrels are an import. We’re fairly sure from people who brought them in them as pets, most likely in the 1870s and on. They’re crowding out the red squirrels, though.”
“Probably because the red ones have leprosy.” Albright crossed her arms. “And what’s that? Stoat?”
That was a word entirely likely to get Claudio’s attention. He could, in fact, see something mustelid lurking. But it was not doing the delightful and lethal dance that marked the stoat. Nor was it still more white than brown, and most importantly, it was slinking low to the ground.
“Weasel. Stoats move differently. They make bounding leaps, not like that.” Claudio gestured at the animal, and Gabe amiably let him take over the explanation.
It was a summary, but it would do. “Also, it’s a little smaller than a stoat, but I admit that’s not a lot of help when they’re not standing there side by side for you to compare.
Take yourself to the natural history museum sometime and look at the various taxidermy examples. ”
Albright sighed. “More homework.” The others chuckled, and then she excused herself.
Betts went with her— they were sleeping in the loft, with Gabe and Claudio bedding down near the fireplace in the main room.
Claudio found his thoughts drifting to what he wanted to write down for Matthew about what he saw and heard.
There were the sounds of the nighttime birds, the weasel, and the squirrels.
He was starting to see a few shadows that had to be bats.