Massimo’s father looked from one boy to the next. His brow furrowed. “Fine,” Giorgio said. “I’ll give you your chance, boy.”
Dismounting from the wagon, Giorgio took Massimo’s hand and dragged him past the files of wagons, to finally stand beside the small cart they used for trips into town. The drudge was already hooked up in its traces, scratched and worn, motionless until it was next activated.
“Lunara-siela-tara,” Giorgio called out.
The symbols on the bones of the construct lit up, and the drudge rose from its inactive state.
“You know how to control this?” Giorgio said.
“Father,” admonished Alonzo, “he’s animated a drudge with me by his side a thousand times.”
“Yes,” Massimo said, suddenly afraid. “I do.”
“Good,” said Massimo’s father. “Wait here.”
Giorgio returned a moment later with a small pouch that jangled as he walked, and a stack of waxed paper. Looking at the stack, Massimo realized it was actually a single piece of paper that had been folded many times.
“Just like your brother, you get an empty cart and twenty-five silver deens. Most important of all, however, is this map.”
“And if I’m more successful than Alonzo?”
Giorgio snorted. “If you’re more successful than Alonzo and you return with more wealth than he, then I’ll tell you what, Massimo, you can stay here and help your brother.”
“I’ll do my best, Father,” Massimo said.
“Off you go, boy. I’ll see you in a month.”
Giorgio strode away with big, ground eating strides.
Alonzo turned to Massimo. “He’s never one to use two words when one will do. Just come back alive. I’ll talk to Father while you’re away… I’ll try to see if he’ll let you stay here with me.”
~
Twenty-five silver deens! Massimo had never had so much money. He thought of all the things he could buy.
Be cautious, he told himself, as he set the drudge into motion with a few spoken words and some touches to the controller tablet. He turned it into the street, and then he was away.
Should he load up with goods here in Ralanast, to take away to foreign customers? No, he decided. Halaran was a land of grains, fruits, cheeses and cured meats. Ralanast, as Halaran’s capital, was a wonderful place to buy foodstuffs. But food didn’t fetch much when it was sold. Instead, Massimo decided to spend his money wisely and fill his cart with magical devices from Loua Louna. He would travel faster empty, load up at his destination, and he would sell the devices on his return.
He pictured them now, an array of glittering objects piled in the bed of the cart, spilling over the sides. Why trade in vegetables when he could trade in timepieces, seekers, oracles, perhaps even prismatic orbs? Massimo would head for Loua Louna, land of the artificers, and he would return to Ralanast a rich man.
Alonzo had cautioned Massimo to spend some of the money hiring guards, but Massimo decided it was an expense he could do without. The more gilden he saved for goods, the more he would have to sell when he returned, and the more he would impress his father.
With a light heart, Massimo spent four of his twenty-five silver deens on the supplies he would need for his journey. He bought a salted side of beef, a round of cheese, and three loafs of rye bread. Deciding he would make faster time if he traveled by night, Massimo bought some candles, pleased at how prudent he was being: an Alturan nightlamp would have been much more expensive. Finally he bought four bottles of dark beer, two skins of red Halrana wine, and a flask of a strong Petryan spirit called firebrand. Massimo had sipped beer a few times and had even tried wine, but he’d never heard of firebrand. The tavern keeper promised him the liquor would keep him awake, enabling him to travel further each day.
As he left Ralanast, sitting proudly atop his drudge-pulled cart, the road opened up in front of him, and soon Massimo was traveling through the farmland on the city's outskirts with a song on his lips and excitement in his blood.
~
Knowing Loua Louna was far to travel if he wanted to return within a month, Massimo kept the drudge moving all through the first night, taking regular sips of wine, reading his map by candlelight.
He wondered at the tavern keeper's words. He'd always thought that beer and wine was supposed to make a man relaxed, not keep him awake. But he was a tavern keeper — he would know — and Massimo had seen plenty of men drink until very late at night. With a shrug he had another sip.
The second day was cool and clear, and Massimo settled into a routine. He liked his own company, and with the drudge doing all the work, the beer and wine made for a pleasant journey.
That night he was too tired to stay awake, but decided to sleep in his cart by the side of the road rather than spend money on an inn.
He followed the same routine on the third day, but on the fourth day Massimo woke with a splitting headache. As he got underway again he frowned down at the half-empty wineskin on his lap, and with a curse he threw it onto the side of the road.