Epilogue

That’s really the end of the story. The big adventure was over. Of course, as the cliché goes, another adventure was just beginning. But you might like to know a bit about what happened next.

Word of our arrival was sent to Graamon in Meyroha, and he came to Barioha. He and Baam petitioned Barioha Castle, and Aila’s story was heard and debated there. A guard was sent to Mezham, where he found the people who had hired a horse to a man answering Aila’s description of her attacker, and whose horse had not been returned. A delegation went to Baragi, and confronted Tiiram. They did in fact get enough sense out of Jerem to confirm that it was his father, not Aila, who had smashed his knees.

Gamaara threw Tiiram out. He was stripped of his Castle papers, and all his property was given to Gamaara. He was dressed in beggar’s clothes and sent to Gorb, which is about as far out in the wilds as you can get by coach. The coach drivers were given strict instructions not to allow him to travel. I’ve no idea what happened to him after that, but we’ve never heard of him since.

Gamaara sent the price of a horse to the people in Mezham, and identified the hired man as a chap who’d lived in Baragi for a long time, but who had no known relatives living in the area.

Graamon, Baam, Biiniha, Aila and I went in style, by passenger train, to Laanoha. The news had reached family and friends ahead of us, and there was a huge party in Peyr’s room.

At Yaana’s suggestion and by common consent, the party turned into our wedding halfway through the evening. Aila was probably already carrying Aariini, our firstborn, but nobody knew or would have cared if they had known – it’s not like England here.

The only thing that marred the occasion, and very sad we were about it, was that Birgom had died just a few days after I left Laanoha. At least he’d died peacefully in his sleep. Viilam thought he was ninety-six years old, a fact that I subsequently confirmed from his diary, which Viilam gave to me. Birgom’s diary was almost entirely written in English, so I was the only person who could read it. But that’s another story in itself.

Aila and I revisited Griimi, Oushi, and finally Griishi – and no doubt will again. We invited Yaana to come with us, but after wavering for a while she decided not to come. We’ve not been to Troum again yet, but we intend to some day.

Griimab Tomaam’s mother gave us her painting, and sent her greetings to Yaana. We talked at length with Mashaar and Piiram, but went by coach with Falbaash to Oushi where I met Jalaan for the first time. He told us he’d heard from the Troum fishermen that Tiiram’s man had died only a week or so after we left Troum. We’ve never discovered who we’d seen behind us as we went from Troum towards Zhaam. We’ve almost begun to think we imagined it.

We learnt another thing about Troum as an indirect consequence: their method of disposing of the dead. They feed them to their pigs, well cooked if they died of disease, otherwise raw. Is this a health hazard to the humans who subsequently eat well-cooked pork? No-one seems to be aware of any evidence that it is.

We visited the Borjiis in Griishi, and Maamatta gave us another painting.

Yaana was tickled pink to learn that she was a legend amongst the fishermen all the way from Griishi to Zhaam, all the more so when she saw the paintings. One of them now hangs on Yaana’s wall in Laanoha, and one on ours in Briggi.

We’ll be leaving Briggi eventually. With Graamon, Baam and a few others, I’m on a committee setting up that research institute. It’s going to be in Maaram.

The railway is going to connect Maaram. Work has begun on a tunnel between Belgaam and Maaram, and on surveying for a route from Maaram direct to Barioha.

The rock cuttings between Tambuk and Briggi have been roofed over.

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