“I agree with you there,” I said. I failed to mention I wasn’t a city-dweller anymore, though.
“The wars depleted the kingdom, for certain,” Wat went on. “And the famine and plague killed many. No family was left untouched.” He paused for a moment then said, “Lost a third of my extended family, I did, and we were the lucky ones.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Wat grunted. “It were the old ones and children mostly. It’s always the innocent ones what pay the price.”
I hummed in agreement, but didn’t ask any more questions, in case Wat needed a moment in his own thoughts.
He took several moments before going on with a sigh. “Trade with the eastern kingdoms over the sea has picked up a little, but I’ll admit, few people have time to think about the frontier anymore. To be honest, I’m surprised whenever I see a frontier person come over the mountains these days. I understand you, though.”
“You do?” I wondered what he could mean.
Wat nodded and smiled. “Healers are swiftly becoming some of the most lauded people in the Old Realm, especially after the plague. Many things in cities like Royersford, Carpathia, and the king’s city have shut down, but Royersford Healers’ College? The king has encouraged it and everything like it to go on.”
“Truly?” I asked, surprised.
“On my honor,” Wat said. “The king himself nearly died of the plague three years ago. Much of the royal family did as well.” He paused for a moment, glanced around as though someone might be hiding in the rocks to listen, then went on with, “Or so he says. If you ask me, there was as much poison involved as plague.”
“I’ve heard something to that effect,” I said carefully.
In fact, what I’d heard was Magnus saying his brother was ruthless and conniving, and speculating that Julius must have eliminated everyone who stood between him and the throne.
“You’ll be given quite a welcome in Royersford,” Wat went on.
“Will I?”
“Yes, I believe so.” He smiled at me. “There’s a mad rush to train healers these days. Every city has a course, and those courses are always filled, but Royersford Healers’ College is the best of them. The apprentice healers are treated like nobility, whether they are or not. I think you’ll find yourself celebrated wherever you go.”
I smiled. “Wouldn’t that be nice.”
Wat laughed, though there wasn’t as much humor in it as there could have been. “Don’t be getting too ahead of yourself, though, Master Conrad. You healers pay a price. You have to treat the sick and dying. More healers die from the plague than anyone else. That’s why there’s such a need to train more.”
I swallowed hard. “Is the plague still a problem?”
Wat hummed and pinched up his face. “It can be. In the winter especially. If you ask me, part of the problem is that, after so many years of everyone living in fear of their own shadow because of the plague and keeping to themselves, all the people in the cities want to do is have their parties and their revels and enjoy their lives, short though they might be.”
My brow flew up at his use of the word “revels”. I wondered if revels in the Old Realm bore any resemblance to what we wolves referred to as revels. If so, I might really bring back some stories for Dushka.
We spent the rest of the afternoon talking as we walked, and we found another hollow to camp in for the night. The next day proceeded in much the same way. The major highlight was when we crossed over a bridge that seemed impossibly long to me and that spanned a chasm that was so deep it turned my stomach to even think about it. I could only imagine how magnificent the people who had created the massive bridge and the towers that anchored it on either side of the chasm were.
I learned a lot from Wat as we traveled—enough to know that I was heading into a place whose ways were so foreign to what I was used to that it was likely to be a shock. Wat made a cheerful traveling companion, though.
By the end of the third day, we were no longer walking uphill all day. By midday on the fourth day, we were definitely walking downhill. We crossed another bridge, but it was puny compared to the massive one. Puny by comparison, but still impressive.
It wasn’t until late afternoon on the fifth day of walking along the smooth mountain road that I caught sight of another village.
“That’s Aktau,” Wat said, pointing out his home village with a broad smile at the first sight of it in the distance.
A burst of excitement hit me as I followed his pointing to see a cluster of buildings in the distance, grouped in a valley far below where we walked. Everyone I’d spoken to had referred to Aktau as a village, but from the vantage point of the mountains, it looked to be as large as any of the wolf settlements. It might have been larger than some of the smaller frontier cities. I wouldn’t know until I got there.
“It’s still another day’s walk,” Wat said as we continued on, taking a bend in the road that led us into a stretch of forest and hid the city from our view. “It would be less if we had horses or a cart. It’s a shame your sponsor didn’t send you with horses, but I know how that goes these days.”
I hummed and nodded, pretending I understood, but I wasn’t sure I did. I supposed it was more ordinary for people coming from the frontier to have a sponsor paying for whatever courses they were sent to take in the Old Realm. I had no sponsor.
Wat’s comment about horses didn’t fully hit home until the next morning, when we finally did descend from the mountains and through several pastures and farms leading up to Aktau. There were hardly any horses to be seen anywhere. As soon as we crossed over a second, wide road that ran perpendicular to the mountain pass road, there was three times the amount of traffic around us, but almost no horses.
“Why are people using oxen to pull their wagons and, if I’m not mistaken, to work their fields?” I asked Wat as we passed an orchard. The carts that the workers harvesting fruit were loading bushels of apples into were hitched to oxen instead of horses.