“Bad storm breakin’,” Emil thought, as dark purple clouds swept down off the mountains and spatters of rain began to fall. The storm came up so quickly that Emil had not even noticed the piles of clouds gathering in the distance. Now the flying clouds were overhead and thunder rumbled. CRAAACK! A fork of lightning flashed, striking a towering tree along the path just ahead. Splitting down the trunk, the largest part of the tree fell across the path, forcing him to climb clumsily through the wreckage as the branches lashed in the wind.
“Crutt!” he grunted into the rising wind. “Worse than bad, this storm’s goin’ to tear things up before it’s done!” Holding his hat tightly on his head, he leaned forward against the powerful gusts tearing at his coat. Caught in the open, with no hope of immediate relief, Emil battled a sense of dismal foreboding.
“Yar!” he muttered after a few moments of self-pity. “Whether bad or not, you only find it in the end—so I better keep going! Struggling to pick up his pace, he knew the worst was yet to come. Everything beyond the line of low-hanging clouds was disappearing behind sheets of rain. Grimly determined, Emil pushed forward. When the full force of the storm hit, however, he was completely unprepared for the blinding chaos that engulfed him.
A howling north wind sent blinding sheets of rain whirling around him like a curtain. Briefly considering the possibility of seeking shelter, he decided against it. “No, there’s no good stopping place. Nothing to do but keep moving, I’ll not be ruined by water and it will soon pass.” Splashing forward through the deepening puddles on the road, Emil pulled at his hat brim trying to keep the rain from his eyes. The wild, swirling downpour made it nearly impossible to find his way. His shoulders bobbed up and down as he trudged on along the road, moving more by the feel of the path beneath his feet than by sight. Ear-splitting thunder and searing bolts of lightning would have sent most beasts flying under any available cover, but Emil did not fear or falter.
With a pocket full of coins earned from delivering his family’s goods to market, he could not dally. “If there’s to be pike and biscuits on the table tonight, I’ve got to stop at the grocer’s on the way home—there’s been enough of potatoes and greens this week!” Beyond the desire to leave off the hated greens, he’d also promised Helga he would buy some of their father’s favorite peppermints for his birthday. “Got to keep going—dawdling in pity won’t keep me any drier.”
In spite of this resolve, however, Emil had to struggle mightily as he pushed on through the desolate, rain-swept landscape. He still had a long way to go. The journey to the Z-House was a long day’s trip even under the best conditions. The Wood Cow settlement at O’Fallon’s Bluff was far removed from the other Hedgie villages. No respectable Hedgie wanted to live near the despicable outcasts.
Although practically every Hedgie owned a finely-made oaken chest, ash-handled tool, willow bow, pine bed, or other Wood Cow-made item, Hedgies would not trade directly with the Wood Cows. “Keep the Wood Cows off a bit, but their products near” was the Hedgie view of things. That meant a long journey to the Z-House for the Wood Cows, where a Z-Tax collector distributed the goods they made. Wood Cow tools and furniture sold well. Sometimes Emil and other young Wood Cows took several wagonloads a week to the Z-House. Yet, because of the fearsome taxes on everything they sold, Wood Cows sold much, but earned little.
On this particular day, which so changed Emil’s life, he had made an extra trip to the Z-House to deliver a stave made especially for one of the High One’s officers. The few extra coins from the special sale meant the difference between pike and greens for dinner, and would put sweet peppermints in his Papa’s mouth. The trip had been worth it.
But now he was caught on a lonely stretch of road far from home, in the worst storm he had ever seen. Worse, the road to O’Fallon’s Bluff was a nobeast’s-land. For a long way, there was no hope of a friendly face or a warm hearth, and his situation was getting worse. When he reached Overmutt Hollow, the road was completely flooded and he was forced to find a detour. It was going to be a long and difficult journey home.