They'd dropped Brunolf off in Ballyroed half an hour ago and now it was just Enar and Hasse on the cart as it slowly wound its way up yet another hillside. A small stream giggled happily to itself where it flowed next to the road and birds were singing in the trees all around them. The forest here was ancient and untouched by mortal hands. Enormous oaks and beeches rose out of a thick carpet of fallen leaves. Young trees and saplings crowded around the trunks of fallen elders, slowly vying to take their place.
Rays of afternoon light shone down through the leaves above and colored everything a soft golden green. It would still be light enough to see for several hours yet, but where the trees stood close together shadows were gathering and Enar was getting a little bit tired.
He'd been up since early morning. The sun had barely risen when he stepped out of his apartment back home. Traveling always took it's toll and while the trains had been comfortable enough, the last two hours of bumping along on a rickety old cart hadn't exactly been relaxing.
He was looking forward to arriving and to sitting down on something that didn't rattle and shake. The old driver had been amusing and entertaining at first but since they left their last stop and it was just the two of them the constant talking had started to grate. He wouldn't have to put up with it for much longer though. According to someone Hasse had spoken to they'd easily make the journey from Ballyroed to Hyardum, their destination, in less than an hour. The spring rains were long gone and the road was far from the wet muddy mess it had been some weeks ago.
Ballyroed had been everything Grums wasn't and fully lived up to what Enar had imagined an anfylk village would be like. It was situated around a small lake, barely more than a pond, that had formed in the valley between two hills. The forest had been cleared away and burrows were strewn all over the slopes. At the center of the village, where the two hills met and the road crossed a small river leaving the lake, stood the village inn. It was the only above-ground building in sight; timbered like a great big two story log cabin and with grass growing on the roof. There was even a goat up there grazing.
Brunolf's host had been waiting for them outside the inn. He was a round, happy looking man in a broad brimmed hat, faded green shirt and even more faded jeans. He'd introduced himself, but Enar no longer remembered what his name actually was. It was something he could ask Brunolf about that later.
The two tourists had exchanged phone numbers and agreed to meet up to share stories when they were back home again. It had turned out they were both from Kul Viller and Brunolf even lived in the neighborhood Enar was thinking of moving to. Meeting up for a pint or two wouldn't be a problem.
The host had brought two sons along and had sent them off home with Brunolf's luggage. He himself would remain for a while longer and enjoy some local cider with his guest before they too made the climb up the hill. The last Enar had seen of the other guy was him and his host at a table outside the inn, deep in conversation and each with a large mug in front of him. He'd raised his hand to wave but Brunolf hadn't noticed.
Enar very much hoped he too would get a cider when he arrived. Some food would be even better. He'd not eaten since Hemsfil where he'd changed trains and that was half an eternity ago now. Tired, hungry and grumpy it was probably a good thing Hasse didn't seem to expect any kind of conversation out of him. The driver was happy to keep rattling on about whatever crossed his mind and the passenger took in the scenery and tried to shut out the noise.
---
Continued in Day 1 - Scene 5.
Back to Enar's Vacation.