Carriage and Two: Farmers, part 5

Mirrored from Sythyry.

“I beg your pardon,” said Mayor Gorsen the next day. “Precisely what has become of my carriage?”

“It’s tumbled over in the stream at the bottom of Burrbumber Bluff,” said Allam sadly. “One side has been stove in, and I don’t think the wheels are in the best of condition anymore.”

“By the spanglio!” exclaimed Gorsen. “My new carriage, with the lacquered panels and elliptical leaf springs! And what of my horses, my matched pair of six-year-old roan mares that I fed on apples every day by hand?”

“Profferty got dragged down the bluff with the carriage. She’s all scraped up on the flank, and has her wounds and injuries. Dillesc fetched up on some bramble bushes on the edge of the bluff, so she’s scratched up but not so bad as that,” said Allam. “She lost her foal, I fear, though.”

“Ach! Accanax shit on the situation!” cried Gorsen. “What hideous angel or insanulous idea propelled you to drive home in the middle of the night? Could you not wait until morning?”

“We hadn’t got a place to stay in Vheshrame,” said Allam. “We’d been too busy at the guild to go find lodging. The only hotels we found were rather dear. We thought to come home to sleep, rather than spending on the city.”

“Ach! Sleep on the streets, by the spanglio! Or prevail on the Cantoozies, or whatever your eighth-cousins-thrice-removed are called, to take you in for the time! Or any other Herethroy family: at that hour they will be too tired to work out the geneological details. Or sleep under the Pillar of Incangiophor, for Mircannis’ sake! It is not yet too cold for that! Just, do not drive your borrowed carriage, with the pregnant mares, across the twisty roads atop the Burrbumber Bluff in the dark of night!”

Allam had no great basis for disputing the mayor’s cry. “I’ve assembled a dozen farmers; we’ll have horse and carriage out first thing after dawn,” he said.

“I suppose that is the best that can be hoped for, under the circumstances,” said the mayor.

And, by dint of the great strength of many stout farmers, both horse and carriage were hoisted to the top of the bluffs. Neither one was in shape to travel by its normal means, so the horse was coaxed onto a cart, and the carriage onto a hay-wain. And so they finally came back to Dren Mafferhame, though more like the first thing after noon than the first thing after dawn.

Carriage and Two: Farmers, part 5

Mirrored from Sythyry.

“I beg your pardon,” said Mayor Gorsen the next day. “Precisely what has become of my carriage?”

“It’s tumbled over in the stream at the bottom of Burrbumber Bluff,” said Allam sadly. “One side has been stove in, and I don’t think the wheels are in the best of condition anymore.”

“By the spanglio!” exclaimed Gorsen. “My new carriage, with the lacquered panels and elliptical leaf springs! And what of my horses, my matched pair of six-year-old roan mares that I fed on apples every day by hand?”

“Profferty got dragged down the bluff with the carriage. She’s all scraped up on the flank, and has her wounds and injuries. Dillesc fetched up on some bramble bushes on the edge of the bluff, so she’s scratched up but not so bad as that,” said Allam. “She lost her foal, I fear, though.”

“Ach! Accanax shit on the situation!” cried Gorsen. “What hideous angel or insanulous idea propelled you to drive home in the middle of the night? Could you not wait until morning?”

“We hadn’t got a place to stay in Vheshrame,” said Allam. “We’d been too busy at the guild to go find lodging. The only hotels we found were rather dear. We thought to come home to sleep, rather than spending on the city.”

“Ach! Sleep on the streets, by the spanglio! Or prevail on the Cantoozies, or whatever your eighth-cousins-thrice-removed are called, to take you in for the time! Or any other Herethroy family: at that hour they will be too tired to work out the geneological details. Or sleep under the Pillar of Incangiophor, for Mircannis’ sake! It is not yet too cold for that! Just, do not drive your borrowed carriage, with the pregnant mares, across the twisty roads atop the Burrbumber Bluff in the dark of night!”

Allam had no great basis for disputing the mayor’s cry. “I’ve assembled a dozen farmers; we’ll have horse and carriage out first thing after dawn,” he said.

“I suppose that is the best that can be hoped for, under the circumstances,” said the mayor.

And, by dint of the great strength of many stout farmers, both horse and carriage were hoisted to the top of the bluffs. Neither one was in shape to travel by its normal means, so the horse was coaxed onto a cart, and the carriage onto a hay-wain. And so they finally came back to Dren Mafferhame, though more like the first thing after noon than the first thing after dawn.