Fred awoke the next morning at the sound of the huge door clanging shut. (You just missed your chance to dash out under Andrew's nose, buddy!) Near it he could see a slice of bread lying in a shallow bowl which also contained water. Suddenly remembering that he had not eaten since yesterday morning, he walked over to the food. The bread, he realized, had been moderately stale, but half of it was now soggy from lying in the water. (Yeah, yeah, the usual prison diet. Suck it up.) For a moment he eyed it distastefully, but hunger was stronger than dislike. Shutting his eyes to avoid looking at the unappetizing lump, he devoured it. In a trice both bread and water were gone, and Fred felt hungrier than ever. If Andrew meant to starve them, he thought grimly, he was doing a pretty good job of it.

Well, what do you think? That he wants you to dine off the fat of the land? You refused his benevolent offer, Fred, and you're taking the consequences.

He pushed the bowl away moodily and leaned against the cold wall. He was staring up at nothing in particular when a scratching noise attracted his attention. Fred looked down to see a rat, which was obviously trying to eat the stone wall.

??? Obviously? How closely are you looking, Fred? I do not think it is common practice for rats to EAT stone. There is no logical reason that you should think, "Oh, there is a rat very obviously trying to eat the stone wall." If it looked as if it were trying to do that, you would probably bend closer to investigate this strange phenomenon.

For no reason in particular, almost instinctively, he kicked out hard at it, missed it completely, and got his foot jammed in the hole that the rat had come out of. Gritting his teeth, he jerked his leg back angrily. On the fourth try, his foot came loose. Falling back onto the floor, he was about to take his boot off and massage his foot when he heard a rumbling and grinding noise coming from the wall. Leaping back, he pressed himself against the opposite wall. He watched, staring, as a chunk of the wall that he had kicked crumbled to the stones below in a cloud of dust. A good-sized hole gaped in the wall at about chest height.

*cringes away from the number of times "wall" was repeated in that paragraph*

Fred stared for a full minute; then cautiously he walked forward and peered into the hole. What he saw nearly made him scream. The inside of the wall was completely hollow and packed with rats. Rats scurrying up and down long ramps, rats riding in wagons pulled by more rats on a causeway at the bottom, rats poking heads out of five-story apartment buildings, rats riding upwards on pulley elevators, and everywhere rats squeaking.

For a moment Fred's eyes were riveted to the sight with shock and revulsion. He jerked them away and leaned his forehead against the stone wall. Which was when the realization hit him. The tunnel could continue on. It could lead anywhere. It could lead out of this place. With new hope springing in him, Fred stepped back from the wall determinedly. The only problem was... how did he get the rats out?

"Shoo!" he yelled half-heartedly. As he expected, not one of the rats even paused in their rushing. He sighed, and sat down on the floor. He was searching his brain fruitlessly when the bowl caught his eye. He eyed it thoughtfully, and then shrugged. It couldn't do any harm. He picked up the bowl, dropped it gingerly into the hole, and looked in to view the results.

Panic erupted in the rat metropolis.

Fred blinked as swirling patterns of brown and grey whizzed across his vision, and then, suddenly, the rats were gone.

In a later version Fred threw the bowl in but it didn't do any good. With great reluctance he actually stepped in there, and that was what actually scared the rats away.

So... besides the fact that this whole thing is utterly implausible... I mean, at least it's halfway decent writing.

Fred could scarcely believe it. The whole thing was too good to be true, he told himself.

A tried-and-true method of diverting the reader's attention from the fact that it IS too good to be true. XD

Carefully he lowered himself into the hole and began walking. Except that it stank of rats, he found, the place had few obstacles. The various ramps twisting around him and blocking his path were easy enough to break and push aside. The pulleys that dangled around his head were merely like vines in a forest that one had to brush out of one's face. It really was rather like being in a rope-and-stone forest, he thought with a glint of amusement.

He had only gone a few steps when he was forced to turn sharply. That made sense, he thought; he had been going in the direction of the corridor. He turned to the left and kept on walking, but now paused every few steps and pressed his ear to the wall. He felt like he had been walking for an hour before he heard very audible sniffing. His heart beat fast. Now, he told himself, if all the walls were as hollowed out as his had been, this shouldn't be a problem. Backing up to the corridor side of the wall, he flung his weight hard against the other side. It shook, but did not break. Setting his teeth, he tried again. This time it gave way. Fred stumbled onto the floor, and, when he got up, found himself face-to-face with Marjorie. Her mouth was wide open. "How--" she began. Fred held up his hand. "Not right now," he said. Best she doesn't ever know, he thought, and then his mouth twitched as he thought of what Marjorie would say if she knew about all the rats. But he only beckoned her to follow him into the tunnel.

Apparently forgetting that rats live all through these tunnels and there is no way Marj is going to avoid seeing them.

"W-what's that smell?" quavered Marjorie. "Who knows," said Fred and hoped she would drop the subject. They probably would be seeing some rats soon, he acknowledged to himself. The bowl couldn't have affected areas much further than this. Sure enough, at that very moment he saw a group of rats in front of him, earnestly squeaking.

I digress briefly to mention that these rats did have their entire own civilization and human-level intelligence, though that did not make it into this book. There were birds of similar nature, who played a large part in book 4. These rat-like and bird-like creatures in fact survived into the final version of Legea, and are called the "eraris" -- Thiredanian/Old Ordenian, an adjective which basically translates to "possessing the attributes of man". They display animalistic traits and instincts, though they possess higher intelligence than mere beasts, and they are not on the same level as the thindran, which are beside men. The eraris are below them.

He glanced at Marjorie, who looked at him, then at the rats, and gasped, "Are -- those--" Fred gently put a hand over her mouth, and turned so that he was facing her fully. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. "Marjorie, listen to me. You want to get out of here. I do. We all do." Marjorie nodded. "Getting out of here is going to involve several unpleasant things, and one of those is rats. Marjorie, I promise to keep them off of and away from you. All I ask of you is this: trust me, look straight ahead, and don't panic."

What do you know about that. I think the giant convinced Fred that he actually likes his siblings. That's a nice change.

"All right, Fred," whispered Marjorie. She gave him a tremulous smile, and began to walk decorously, head erect, down the passage.

Marjorie is, I think, the only person in The Journey whose basic personality and character arc remained the same over the course of the different drafts. Fretful, prim, and poverty-conscious, she grew into a strong, gentle young woman and she's about my favourite in this first draft.

It had to have been at least an hour later, Fred was sure, when the original four of them were walking down the seemingly never-ending rat tunnel. What with the slow going, the rats, and the fact that Powhatan refused at first to move from his spot in -- apparently -- the exact center of the cell. Would the tunnel ever end? Where would it end?

Another hour later, Fred was sure that yes, it would never end. He was doing all he could not to fall asleep on his feet, and he was dreadfully thirsty. Beside him Marjorie was stumbling. Sandy's eyes were half-closed, and even Powhatan's walk, though it never faltered, was growing definitely slower. One thing though, that Fred did feel thankful for, was that wherever they were now was apparently the rats' equivalent of country. This meant much fewer rats to scare off, and many, many fewer ramps, stairs, and bridges to break. Then he was jerked out of his half-asleep state by a sudden realization. The tunnel was slanting upwards! He forced his legs to move faster. Glancing behind him, he saw that Sandy's eyes were wide open. She, too, had realized.

A few minutes later, Fred, now crawling on his hands and knees because of the ever-lower roof, felt his hand strike solid dirt. They had now reached the end of the tunnel. (I'd be feeling so claustrophobic right now.) Bracing his shoulders, he pushed his head up. A split second of panic gripped him -- what if it was too deep to break through? Then his head broke through into air. Fresh air. Air that smelled nothing of rats. He pulled himself out and reached down a hand to assist Marjorie out. Sandy followed and then Powhatan. They had done it, Fred thought. Escaped from Andrew Wilson! He looked around quickly, but the black house was nowhere in sight. That was good, he thought. Then he recognized where they were. They were actually not far from the place where they had met Andrew Wilson. A sudden thought struck him. "Wait here," he said to the other three. He ran for a few minutes until he came to the small alley in Crepton where Andrew had appeared -- was it only yesterday? Relief washed over him as he saw, lying in the snow, the four bundles. He dragged them behind him back to his siblings. "Now, he said after handing everyone back their improvised bags (why does Powhatan even consent to carry one?), "we're all tired, but we can't stay here. It's probably mid-afternoon or thereabouts right now, and if we keep going we can get to Erbville (Purplesville from Ch.1) by nightfall.

"And I mean we can't stay here," he repeated, seeing the rebellious faces. "Do you want to be captured by Andrew Wilson again?" Apparently they did not.

There had been food in the bundles, and they ate before continuing. So, revitalized by food, fresh air, and open space, they came to Erbville as dusk was falling.

At this point, I personally would be feeling a little alienated and zoned out from the world. Here they are in the city, living their ordinary lives, and I just escaped from a malformed giant who wanted me to marry his daughters by way of tunnels that sentient rats had gnawed into the dungeon walls. But Fred & Co. are made of more hardy stuff than me, I guess.

Erbville was bustling and busy even as darkness closed in. People crowded the streets, making it difficult for Fred to even tell what street they were on! He finally got the attention of a large man who was walking around with a dreamy expression. "Yes, my dear little fellow... what can I do for you..." and he continued mumbling unintelligible gibberish, the only word of which that Fred could catch was "mayor".

"Can you tell me," Fred began rather loudly, partly because the streets were so noisy and partly because he felt that the man was not listening, "if there is a decent inn nearby that isn't expensive?"

The man smiled blissfully. "Ah yes... the inn which the mayor owns... the best inn that there ever was... the food, how excellent! the beds, how soft... the price, how fair... there is no other inn that you should go to... the mayor, ah, the mayor... such a man..."

Everybody in Erbville was supposed to be like this. They were basically under the thumb of the "mayor", who involved with secret underground political conspiracies, as you shall see by the end of this chapter.

That was quite enough for Fred. The man was a complete fanatic. More than likely one had to pay so much that it would be like he was paying to eat off gold plates. But try as he might, he could not get the attention of anyone else in the vicinity. He was just beginning to think they would have to sleep in the streets when, above and a little to the right, he saw a large sign dangling. The Mad Bull, it read. (The Mad Bull, incidentally, is the one owned by the mayor, an important fact which I nevertheless failed to mention. It is also the only inn in town.) The Mad Bull did not sound particularly pleasant, but the prospect of anywhere out of this noise and jostling was beginning to seem a haven. "Come on," he said over his shoulder. "I've found a place."

If you remember, Eribville in the final version is famine-stricken and not at all bustling. And the man they encounter on the streets, who corresponds to this mayor-obsessed fellow (I have no idea whether the correlation was unconscious or intentional), is helpful rather than annoying. He urges them to sleep in the inn, which they weren't planning to do, because the streets are unsafe.

It's a rather funny contrast.

~

The Mad Bull belied its name. As they entered a small bell jingled. A benevolent-looking clerk recieved (computer wanted to autocorrect that but sorry, that was the spelling...) them and took down their names, and Fred found that though the prices were by no means cheap, they were still quite affordable with the money that he had found in the wreck of their house. The air was warm and aromas of roasting meat, simmering stew, apple pie and cinnoman (again, original spelling) wafted around them as a very expressionless boy led them down the hall to their rooms. As he held the door open for them, Fred turned to him. "Would it be possible, he requested, "to have our dinner brought up here?" The expressionless head went up. Once. Down. Once. "Thank you," said Fred, feeling as though he had just had a conversation with a robot.

After eating, Sandy and Marjorie went straight to bed. Powhatan went to his room, although Fred had a justified suspicion that he had not gone to bed. However, Fred himself, rather to his surprise, felt no inclination at all to sleep. The warm, filling food, rather than making him drowsy, had invigorated him; his tiredness had fled. After walking restlessly up and down the main room of their compartment for a minute or two, he opened the door and walked quietly down the hall. At the end there was a flight of stairs going up. On the wall of the stairwell was a sign with an arrow pointing up, and the words LIBRARY and CASINO. Fred decided that the library sounded good. The casino did not sound so good.

But when he arrived at the top, the glass-walled casino had only four people in it -- one man with his nose buried in a newspaper, two more bent over a pack of cards, and the bartender slumped over the counter fast asleep. Fred turned to the carved wooden door marked Library.

Alas, I cannot render the fancy swirling print that I wrote down in the notebook here. XD

As he stepped in, his first impression was of aura of old, majestic peace. Old books with beautiful leather bindings filled the delicately carved bookshelves. Lamps glowed softly from tall black cast-iron stands. Tapestries hung on the walls; ancient chests lined them, wooden and leather. Fred's second impression was of the peaceful, utter silence. It was as if, when he shut the door behind him, he had shut out all the noise of the outer world with it. His feet made almost no noise as he walked over the thick carpet. He felt as if were he to speak, his voice would have to be hushed and gentle.

After his first marveling assessment of the room, he turned eagerly to the bookshelves. Before he even looked for a book he walked up and down the aisles of shelves, stroking the handsome bindings, enjoying the huge array of books on just one shelf, and most particularly figuring out how the library was arranged. Then, when he lifted his head to stare off into space for a moment, he caught sight of another man in a large mirror hanging on the wall.

Fred jumped, completely startled; he had thought himself alone in the room. But as he continued to stare, he realized that he was alone in the library, and it was his own reflection his he had seen. And no wonder he had not recognized himself, he thought. The last time he had looked at his own face had been when he was five years old, and his mother had lifted him up onto her lap to look in her small hand mirror. (What happened to the mirror after that? Did it break? Why could he never look in it again?) Curious now, he walked closer to study his face.

Because we HAVE to have a description of the MC, and it CAN'T be introduced in any better way than having him goggling in a mirror. I could have done worse, though. For being a "mirror" description, it wasn't all that badly worked in.

Steady brown eyes gazed out at him from beneath level brows. His lightish brown hair, the same color as his fathers, looked windswept still, though he had found a comb in Marjorie's bundle to run through it that evening. (Clearly he's either terrible at combing his hair, or he's an expert at getting the attractive windswept do) His gaze fell to the small moustache and beard, which he generally managed to keep trimmed. He had never had a razor to shave completely, though it had been long since he cared. Set underneath the moustache was a firm mouth, tightened slightly at the moment. He stared for a long moment (Is it, "Wow... I'm so handsome" or "Gross... I'm so ugly"?), and then slowly stepped back and turned away. Immediately his eye was caught by a book which had been left lying on its side on the shelf. Gilt scrollwork gleamed on the leather cover, a pattern of gold swirls flowed around the author's name, but it was the title that grasped his attention: A Complete History of Orden.

Every person knew of the country of Orden. It was a name whispered in oppressed countries, spoken of enviously in poor or only moderately wealthy ones, held in apprehension by powerful kings. Some sneered at it -- pointing out its weak monarch, Saxon III (later renamed Conrad III). But when you came down to it, this was the only thing they could jeer at. If Orden had other faults, they did not show on the surface.

Orden, obviously, was the Legean version of America at this stage. The golden country, the land of opportunity, land of the free and home of the brave, all that.

Indeed, Saxon III was a weak monarch -- and were it not for one person Orden should have collapsed long ago. That single man, the general of the army and Saxon III's second-in-command, did everything short of actually ruling the country. He negotiated treaties with other countries, cared for the defenses, quelled rebellions, and endeared himself to the people. There was not one person out of a thousand who could not be found fiercely loyal to him. He was known to the whole of Orden as merely "the General". (The poor guy literally had no other name at this stage, and I never intended to give him one either.) He was their general, they felt; and most would follow him to their death. Fred had wondered more than once what it would be like to live in that country; and it was with a feeling of great curiosity that he picked up the book.

A Complete History of Orden. Chapter I. In the year 1524, Orden was a desolate country, inhabited by strange beasts -- giant tigers and panthers, and other evil creatures. The few people who did live there -- and these were few indeed -- lived only on the edges, huddled together in small hamlets to fend off possible attack. They did not know -- and if any did, none cared -- that in that same year of 1524, a group of people who called themselves Thiredanians had been washed up onto the shores of Arahad in a half-destroyed ship.

For a few generations these Thiredanians lived on the outskirts of the country Rodron, until one king, Daren I, decided they were becoming too numerous; a few more decades and they could be a danger to him. So he drove them out, forcing them to flee to Orden. Then it was that a young man rose up, Thireler by name, rallied his countrymen, and, in the year 1607, conquered the land of Orden. Soon afterwards he was made the first king of that country; and he has ever been known as "Thireler the Conqueror".

Dates and a few minor details have been altered, but the substance of what Fred reads is largely unchanged. I did beef it up somewhat by more detail on the Thiredanians themselves and Thireler's rousing speech to his countrymen.

Fred turned the page; and as he did so, a piece of paper slipped out from between the pages of the book. Even as it fluttered to the floor, he bent quickly and caught it. The paper was not sealed, nor folded in any way -- and the words on it were written in a clear, bold, hand. He read it almost at a glance.

The time is ripe. -- Signed, The Spider.

Fred stared down at the note in his hand, puzzled. He read it a second time, and then a third. Finally he slipped it back into the book, where he had found it, but he had lost interest in reading. Slowly he turned, and left the library. It could be anything, he told himself doggedly, a child's prank... a notice to an employee... but the alarm bell continued to ring, faint but persistent. The note had been more than it seemed. And somehow, beyond all reason, he was sure that for him this was not the end of it.

~~~

Beyond all reason is right! I'm sorry. Fred, you have to give me more of a reason than that for your uneasiness. You read a weird little note and you think that not only is it bad, it's going to have repercussions for you in the near future? No. Not, not, not logical.

What y'all just read was all basically foreshadowing for the big battle that was supposed to be the climax of the book. The mayor of Erbville was in with this creepy organization whose head was called The Spider, and they were trying to do something like take over the world. I dunno, it was never terribly clear in my mind how it all worked out. I think by the time I got to Chapter 6 I had chucked that idea for good.

I have a couple new parts planned for this book soon! "Trivia" chapters will be anything to do with Legea itself. "Behind the Scenes" will be discussing how we got aspects of Legea the way they currently are.

And I promise, I am also starting work on the next Claw chapter, for all my voracious readers. XD