Contraband

Writers: Chelle, Mirren
Date Posted: 5th February 2016

Characters: Shanel, Old Mashe
Description: The old drover takes on an extra load.
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 3, day 26 of Turn 8

Old Mashe was driving the cart slowly. It was a cumbersome thing, rickety and sideways. Most wouldn't understand how it hadn't fallen apart long ago. He'd put new pegs in her though and redone her sideboards. Her bench was newly painted though. Most recognized him and left him alone. On the back of the cart was one runner, tied. The herdbeast pulling the conveyance was a gentle being. It took its time, just like Old Mashe.

Riding into Sawtooth Hold, he stopped and parked behind the beasthold. Giving them some dried grass to much on, he headed out in search of the man with the list.

Shanel watched the cart roll in from her place of concealment among the trees. Her hands trembled, one where it tested on a tree trunk, the other pressed lightly against her swollen belly. If she was found out, he'd beat her, but for the sake of her unborn child, she had to try.

She pulled a scarf over her hair and across her face, to cover the yellowing bruises on her cheek. If anyone asked, she had fallen. No one asked, they all knew the truth. Taking a deep breath, she picked up her basket to look as though she was on legitimate business and hurried toward the cart. "You're here to pick up some cargo?" She glanced around, unable to hide her fear. Her heart raced so hard she swore it'd stop at any moment.

The old man stopped short. His eyes took her in. She was a slip of a thing. Still, it was obvious she was in trouble. He had had a daughter that had turned up dead once on account of trouble. It was why he did what he did. Not so often, mind, but just enough to ease his guilt. "After evenin' meal, I'll be headin' out. Have to get some grain sacks." He'd need the supplies to cover her. "Any water you might offer me missus, would be appreciated." He was asking if she was sure. If she was and she knew what she was doing, she would say the right words.

"I'll make sure it's clean," Shanel replied. It would seem like a harmless conversation if anyone was listening. "I'll be sure to be on time." That was all her. She wanted out, no matter the shame it brought to her family.

He turned and nodded to himself, going into the Hold to get the supplies and everything. He would also be eating dinner and searching for messages that would be hidden in the secret spot that had always been agreed upon. If there had been any changes in the route, he needed to know.

~*~

She had water, in a skin, just in case someone questioned her presence. She had few belongings with her, that would arouse suspicion. She just had a bag tucked under scarf. Her heart was flying out of her chest as she approached the cart. "I brought water." Her voice sounded steadier than she felt.

The trader took the skin and sniffed it. Then he took a draught. "Aye well enough. You go on and toss in the things to be sent on." He was looking about, telling her to put her things in the cart. If he gave the all clear she could climb in herself. There was space between the sacks. He'd have to cover her though, once she was in.

Shanel nodded and hurried to put her bag into the cart. "There, that's all." She wanted to be sick. He'd see her, she was sure if it. Faranth keep him away until she was gone!

"It's a good night for a trip. Clear skies and all." That was the signal. Hopefully she wouldn't make too much noise getting on in. The girl could end up off balance after all. And he had concerns about riding such a girl for so long, but there it was. He'd just have to work it out.

"Yes." She glanced around before climbing up and settling down in the back of the wagon. She almost jumped back out, but curled her hands into fists to buoy her courage instead.

He moved quickly under the cover of darkness to cover her up, adjusting the contents of the wagon. There was a bit of burlap over her with holes so she should breathe. That was another reason why he traveled at night-it was cooler than the day when the burlap would make it stifling. When he was done, he got up into the driver seat and set the cart into motion. On they were towards the southeast.

Last updated on the February 9th 2016

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

Contraband