Lorik (The Lorik Trilogy) by Toby Neighbors

walked. It felt good to stretch his legs, and he enjoyed the thought that he was going to do something positive and productive. Much of his life had been spent in an effort to right the wrongs he had experienced in his childhood. Although he often thought of his deeds as beneficial, they were rarely positive. Now that was changing. He was looking forward to doing work he could feel good about.
    Lorik’s property was on a slight hill. There was a road that led from the town proper to Lorik’s property. Mud bogs lined the road, and it was obvious that Lorik had to work to maintain the road, which was just wide enough for his large wagons to stay out of the mud. The house was not large, but it was bigger than a cottage. The barn behind the home was much bigger, and there were horses in the small corral. Lorik was sitting in a chair on the home’s small porch, drinking a steaming cup of tea.
    “Good morning,” Stone said.
    “And well met,” said Lorik. “How was your stay at Chancy’s?”
    “I slept well,” Stone said.
    “Good, let’s get started then.”
    They walked out to the barn. It was well built with a large hayloft, stalls for a dozen animals, and room for three large wagons, as well as a work area for repairs. Stone saw that his own horse was occupying one of the stalls. From the looks of her, she’d had a nice rubdown and was currently enjoying a small feed bag of oats.
    “My father built this place,” Lorik said. “His father started delivering the rice tax, and the Earl of Yorick Shire gave him his first wagon. Before that, most of the farmers hauled their rice taxes out in hand carts.”
    “Through the marshes?” Stone asked.
    “Yes, in the winter months. The trip would usually take a month, and they often lost as much rice as they delivered. Now there are several good paths through the marshes, depending on the weather and where you need to go. If things work out you’ll learn all of them and how to tell what the marshes are doing.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Most people don’t realize that the marshes migrate. There’s a lot of water under the ground, and when that water shifts or moves, so do the marshes above them. You’ll have to learn the difference between a bog, sucking mud, and quicksand. We’ve got it all in the marshes, along with some venomous snakes and toads. There’s also mud dragons—I suppose you’ve heard of them?”
    “Yes, I even saw a few on my way to Hassell Point.”
    “Well,” said Lorik as they approached the first wagon, “they generally don’t bother us. They’re territorial, though, and they will attack if they feel threatened. They’re fast, and their bite is so powerful it can take off your hand if you get too close.”
    “You make it seem so glamorous,” Stone said sarcastically.
    “It can be, once you know your business. But it isn’t easy work. I know a lot of people who think I just drive a wagon around. That’s only a small part of what I do. I load and unload cargo, care for the horses, keep up the maintenance on the wagons, and probably most importantly, I protect the goods I haul. I know the lay of the land beyond the marshes up to Yorick Shire pretty well, and the Earl does a good job of keeping outlaws at bay, but there are dangers to cargo besides thieves. Especially if your load is rice. Moisture can ruin rice, from rain to a little water splashed on the grain sacks as you cross a stream.”
    “Well, I’m a fast learner,” Stone said. “And I’m not afraid of hard work.”
    “Good, let’s get started. I’ve got two types of wagons. The first is called a marsh schooner. Have you ever heard of it?”
    “No, I haven’t,” Stone said as he slowly circled the wagon.
    “These two are marsh schooners. See how they angle up in the front and the back, just like a boat? In the marsh, you never know when the path might plunge your wagon into the water or into soft mud. With this design, we protect the cargo. It’s watertight and