The Jongurian Mission by Greg Strandberg Page A

young man came running up to them, a large sack in his arms, shouting to Halam.
    “Ah Corrick, good to see you here on time,” Halam said to the man as he walked Juniper over to him.
    “Yes sir, I’ve got the goods you wanted. These provisions should see you to Baden with some left over, I imagine,” he said as he handed the sack up to Halam.
    “Aye, that’s good to hear,” Halam said as he got off Juniper, handing the reins to the man. He opened the sack, revealing two loaves of black bread, a large wheel of cheese, several apples and pears, and a string of red sausages. He walked over to Rodden and opened one of the saddle packs strapped to Brick. He put the bread inside it, then came to Bryn and did the same with the cheese and sausage, before putting the fruit in his own packs and remounting Juniper.
    “I thank you, Corrick” Halam said as he wheeled the horse in the direction of the gate once again, “now we’ll be heading out.”
    They steered their horses through the people flooding in from the countryside to sell their wares for the day, rode through the city gate, and were soon making their way down the King’s Road.
    Leaving the great city of Plowdon was much the same as arriving. The road, which had become wider as they approached, now grew narrower as they departed. The hubbub of farmers and travelers on wagons and afoot lessened as they rode on. The hills rose and fell as they had on the approach, but after a while the ground began to level-out, and rolling fields dominated the landscape for all around.

“Well, Bryn, what do you think of the countryside of Tillatia?” Rodden asked as he rode up alongside him. Bryn figured that he was dissatisfied with trying to get a pleasant word from Halam; whatever setback or rebuke he’d suffered in the morning was still troubling him.
    “It all pretty much looks the same to me ever since we left the farm outside of Eston, sir,” Bryn replied.
    Rodden laughed. “That it does. There really isn’t much to our province, now is there? Just a lot of fields, farms, and livestock. If it wasn’t for the Tillata River cutting the province in half, you wouldn’t know if you were in the north, south, east, or west.” He chuckled to himself, finding some amusement in his own words.
    “I assure you, however, young Bryn,” Rodden continued, “the landscape will change much on our journey over the next few days. Not much today, mind you, and probably not much tomorrow either, but soon we’ll reach the plains of northern Culdovia, part of the vast Klamath Plain. The Plain stretches from the Apsalar Ocean all the way on the far reaches of western Shefflin across the entirety of Adjuria to the Ipsalar Ocean off the eastern coast of Ithmia. It touches nine of Adjuria’s thirteen provinces, and covers some of them almost entirely.” He stopped to think for a moment, then gave Bryn an inquiring glance. “Tell me Bryn, do you know which?”
    Bryn looked up at the sky, thinking. He had read about the Klamath Plain, covering thousands of leagues of land, and had even seen a map or two in some of those books. He straightened his posture on Ash and looked Rodden in the face.
    “Shefflin, Oschem, Allidia, Equinia, Montino, Mercentia, Culdovia, Duldovia, and Ithmia,” Bryn said, putting up a finger for each name he recited. “And if I’m not mistaken, sir,” he continued, “I think some of southern Hotham is touched by the Klamath Plain as well, in the areas where the icy tundra of The Waste doesn’t go further south.”
    “Very good!” Rodden shouted, a smile large upon his face. “Really quite impressive. I think you do have me there on Hotham, now. Really, Halam,” Rodden shouted up to Bryn’s uncle, “this nephew of yours has quite the head on his shoulders.”
    Halam gave a grunt from ahead of them, but other than that continued to ride on in silence.
    “What’s the matter with Uncle Halam today?” Bryn asked Rodden.
    The smile slowly faded from