Perhaps a storm had brought down a swathe of trees, smashing into
the structure and damaging a long stretch. They could also see the shaggy coats of herd-beasts being driven from the forest, with angry shouts by the men doing the driving and furious cries from three men waiting on the field side. The drivers were not sparing of their clubs in getting the woolly beasts back on their own side of the wall.
“Fix that sharding wall, Sucho, or I’ll kill the next ones that come into my plantation!”
The driver’s bellowed threat carried easily to the two travellers.
“We would arrive in the middle of it,” Groghe said to Robinton with a grimace. “Ah, well! It’s to be done!”
They had indeed hoped to arrive before dark, so that they could have a quick assessment of the problem. Now the issue would have to be met immediately.
“A wall has two sides,” Robinton remarked and grinned.
“Good evening to you,” Groghe said, raising his voice.
The driver had stopped at the pile of stones and, shielding his eyes from the glare of a sun close to setting, peered at the two riders. The holder whirled, raising a sturdy staff, and his sons -they resembled him too much to be anything but – assumed defensive stances.
“Groghe of Fort Hold and Journeyman Harper Robinton,” Rob called out, raising his hand high.
The two older men exchanged glances. “You’ve been complaining again to Lord Groghe, Sucho?” the forester shouted, grinning maliciously. “Welcome, holder and harper. You must spend the night with me and mine.” He gestured to his two sons.
“We’ll be grateful for shelter, I assure you,” Robinton said at his most gracious, close enough to the wall now to halt his runner and swing down from the saddle. He was taller than any of them, and he would use that to his advantage.
Groghe dismounted as well, and stood firmly at Robinton’s side.
“My father, Lord Grogellan, wants this settled and has sent me and Journeyman Robinton to be sure that this time the matter is finished!”
That was all that was needed to send both men into loud and conflicting claims: Tortole insisted that the wall had fallen on Sucho’s side, so it was up to him to repair it; Sucho claimed that if Tortole hadn’t been so clumsy in felling the line of trees so that they damaged the wall, there wouldn’t have been a problem.
Robinton then noticed that the remains of the uprooted trees on Tortole’s side were well covered in moss, suggesting that the stumps had been there for many turns. That the storm had done more damage to the forestation – knocking down a swath that continued on up and down the hillside – than to the meadows of the herder was clear, but why two isolated families would not combine
to replace the dividing wall was not.
“Enough.t’ Groghe shouted.
“Quite enough,” Robinton said into the sudden stillness. “A wall has two sides, my friends.”
The response was blank looks. The younger men muttered together.
“Of course a wall has two sides,” Sucho said, scowling.
“Your side and his side,” Robinton said patiently. “You build your side and he will build his side.”
Sucho and Totrole goggled at him. Groghe turned a chuckle into a cough.
“The wall was not one stone thick, was it?” Robinton went on, looking sternly over the group. He could see that the wall had been wide and high enough to keep the herd-beasts from easily jumping over to reach the lush grass where the swath had been cleared.
Sucho shook his head. “That wall’s been there since my hold was built.”
“Since my hold was built, you mean,” Tortole said.
“Then it’s small wonder that it has fallen. The mortar would have deteriorated over the turns,” Robinton said. “But that does not keep it from having two sides. You’ – he pointed over the fallen wall at Tortole – “will build your side, smack up against Sucho’s.” He turned to the herder. “And you will be sure to build your side smack up against Tortole’s. You alternate putting in the mortar, to be sure that both sides are bound together.”