IF THIS WORKS OUT THEN IT FOLLOWS ON FROM PART 5
"What we got to do now Timmy is find yer a safe place to take a kip. I reckons the carters yard is safest, so I'll show yer where to 'ide, alright?"
The carts or wagons came in all shapes and sizes, some just enough for a morning milk round, others canvas covered behemoths for moving goods long distances and providing shelter for the driver. It was these that Alfie showed Timmy indicating the hidden spaces such as beneath the drivers bench seat.
He soon found a good one that suited him and when it wasn't out on the road, he chose it as his favourite for the padded hidden compartment beneath the floorboard that appeared to be part of the heavy underframe.
After he had got used to finding the cart park and making his way around the citadels back alleys with Alfie's help, Timmy soon settled into a daily routine. In a few days he learned how to locate helpful sources of food and other needs and making the most of opportunities that were glad to find him odd little jobs such as carrying messages.
There were numerous small workshops that needed a boy to run errands and he soon made himself welcome at those which offered more such as the printers and craftsmen needing help with demanding tasks that required intelligence and diligence but not enough to keep an apprentice in full time work which was ideal for Timmy as it allowed him to learn the intricacies of many a useful craft skill.
In all it he spent almost three years in these various pursuits, chief of which was remaining unknown to his fathers enemy, Plant and thus almost free to make the most of his circumstances.
The Hiltons had been highly regarded by the various traders and thus by their associates in the artificers guild, so Timmy enjoyed a degree of protection with the universal acceptance of his 'disappearance' which in the majority of cases was actually accepted as fact.
Barely a handful knew that he was the Hilton heir and those that did made it their business to aid in his obscurity because they were well aware of his value to them in aiding their various businesses to flourish. He had always possessed the fine memory and hand eye coordination necessary for an artist, which made him invaluable to printers and forgers whose essential documents were needed to trade and exchange goods overseas.
That was not all he could do as these same skills aided him in helping the various artificers that produced essential navigation equipment such as spyglasses and astrolabes.
In essence Timmy was undergoing a virtual course in engineering, design and craft skills which knowledge he kept records of in a journal along with his many sketches of the processes involved, which would one day prove invaluable.
Time might well have passsed for much longer with Timmy feeling secure and his old identity as John Hilton almost forgotten. He'd got as good a niche as anyone could hope for given the nature of the Citadels political nepotism and intrigue that flourished because of the separate guild councils and one or two individuals like Plant who benefited from these conditions.
He carried his precious possessions in a couriers bag which was in itself a sign of immunity from peremptory examination and acted as a shield from casual curiousity whilst imparting a status that marked him as enjoying the protection of the guilds, it made no difference which because they all shared certain courtesies to ease the tension between rival interests.
So at the end of each work period, it could be morning or night time, Timmy would retire to his chosen cart and manage to sleep safely the more so because his care to conceal himself included making it his business to ensure the chosen cart was well kept.
Thus it happened that Timmy after a very tiring session with a printing shop had just found enough strength to climb aboard his cart of choice which was an unfamiliar one that Alfie had tipped him off about.
"'ee's a new bloke, Tim, the owner I mean, flash looking cart too, proper springs, full size wheels and fresh out of the workshop I reckon, can't be more'n a couple months old. Thing is, the drivers an oldster I knows well, 'ee's been around for ages, got a top reputation amongst high and low born trade, as a man to trust. You can't find a better crib and if he finds you out he won't turn you in."
It was all Timmy had hoped for, the padding under the drivers seat was fresh and clean, a mixture of heather and straw, more comfortable than any save an inner spring seat cushion such as the driver had to aid his comfort for the roads were really bad in many places, real axle breakers to catch the unprepared.
So he fell asleep almost immediately and the cart wasn't held up by the gate guards for a search of its contents because it was running almost empty and the driver was familiar to them. As he never failed to give them a gift of some 'left over' stock, the men on the gate were only too pleased to help him on his way with any news they had about the road conditions reported by incoming carters.
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