These woods here between Aldreth and Watch Hill were wild for the most part, but there were many farmsteads and freeholdings that had been carved out of the heavy woods on both sides of the road. Most of them were out of sight of the road, down cart tracks that disappeared into the trees, but they were there. Not long after setting out, they'd encountered Arem Darn, one of those freeholders, on his way to Aldreth with a load of hay to sell. He had his wife with him, and their three children played in the hay in the back of the cart. It was unusual to see a living soul on this road until one almost got to Watch Hill.
"Tarrin!" Tiella called, shaking him out of his musing consideration of the trees.
"What?" he asked. He noticed that Walten had drifted back with Tiella, and Dolanna and Faalken were a bit up the road from them.
"I said, what do you think of all this?" she asked in a quiet voice.
"How do you mean?"
"Well, I for one am a bit nervous," she said.
"I was planning on leaving anyway," Tarrin shrugged. "I'm just going to a different place, that's all."
"Where were you going to go?" Walten asked.
"I was going to try to get into the KnightsAcademy," he sighed. "I knew it wasn't a sure thing, but this kinda blew that out of the water. By the time I finish at the Tower, I'll be too old." He brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Maybe I'll go into the army, like my father. If I decide not to stay at the Tower, that is."
"I can't wait," Walten said simply. "I've hated carpenting since they day my parents stuck me there. At least this is more interesting, and I get to do something." He looked up the road. "I didn't want to spend all my life in the village anyway."
"I've always thought of leaving Aldreth, but I didn't really take it seriously," Tiella admitted. "And here I am."
"Step it up, young ones," Dolanna called to them. "We must stay together."
Tarrin and the others urged the horses to a faster walk, and they were up with the knight and the Sorceress again.
They stopped several times over the day to rest, so that the Aldreth villagers could get themselves out of the saddle and stretch out muscles cramped by sitting down. They stopped for a meal of bread, cheese, and dried meat by a large stream, in a small meadow near the bridge that spanned it. Despite the slow pace and frequent stops, by the time the village of Watch Hill came into view at dusk, sitting atop the small, rounded, flat-topped rise, Tarrin's legs were painfully cramped and his back felt like he had an axe in it. He almost fell down when they stopped outside the Hilltop Inn and dismounted. The sky was changing into the colors of night when the stable hands came out to get the horses. Three of the four moons were up, all three of them full, and the Skybands, the bands of light that existed in the sky both day and night, were going from their daytime dull white and into the brilliant rainbow cascade of scillinting color that they wore at night. They weren't too wide, about the same width as Domammon, the largest moon, which rode just over the brilliant bands of color. Sometimes Domammon hid behind the Skybands. Duva and Kava, the twin moons, had just risen. Vala, the Red Moon, would rise around midnight, as it did at this phase of the month. The three moons and the Skybands filled the darkening land with curious light, just enough to see but not so much that details could be easily made out.
Watch Hill sat upon a single hill that rose out of the surrounding forest, where there was a large flat valley. During the day, a person could see quite a distance over the green-carpeted valley in which the village stood, thus the village's name. The architecture was so much like Aldreth that it was easy to see the similarities, but the layout of the village was much different. The village followed the contours of their hill, arrayed in rows on the flatter parts of the ridges along the sides, and with the inn and the smithy sitting at the top. The hill had a gentle enough rise so that the road went right up one side and down the other, with several spur streets along the flat ridges leading to the homes and shops. Watch Hill was about twice the size of Aldreth, with fifty homes and shops, and a population of around four hundred both in the village and on the farms surrounding the base of the hill. The Hilltop Inn was larger than the inn in Aldreth, a large four story structure with a huge stable behind it, painted a bright red that was quite visible for miles around.
Before Tarrin could move, he felt Dolanna put her hand on the back of his neck. He gasped slightly as he felt an icy rush go through him, but where the icy sensation flowed, the pain was washed away.
"Warn me next time!" he said in a breathless hiss, holding onto the saddlehorn for support.
"Very well," Dolanna said in a light voice. He had the suspicion that she did that on purpose.
The interior of the inn was spacious and rather crowded. The people filling the inn were both the functionally dressed farmers and villagers, as well as a few men in armor and wearing swords here and there. These were caravan guards, hired by merchants to guard their wares as they moved them from Watch Hill to Torrian. The merchants were here as well, well dressed men, and a couple of women, sitting apart from the common folk of the village like little kings and queens, with their noses in the air. Tarrin didn't particularly like travelling merchants. Most of them were snotty and arrogant, and they always tried to cheat their customers. At least the ones that had come to Aldreth had. They'd thought that just because the people there lived in an isolated community that they were stupid or too back-country to know better. Tarrin knew that not all merchants were like that, but he'd not had any good role models thus far with which to compare them.
A rotund, tall man with a bald pate and wearing a dirty apron scurried up to them. "Mistress Casbane, it is good to see you again," he said. "I have only two rooms left, but they are yours for the taking, with my complements."
"Such a generous offer," she smiled, "but we would not deny you the coin you would make on your rooms this night. We will take your rooms, for the usual fee. I would ask, though, that some supper be brought to us in our rooms. We will not dine in the hall this night."
"It will be as you wish, milady," he said with a warm smile. "Please, follow me. I'll have the hands bring up your packs as soon as I come back down, and I'll send Emmy and Kamy up with dinner for you. We have roasted beef and stewed potatos this night."
"I can hardly wait to taste your wife's excellent cooking," Dolanna said with a genuine smile.
The rooms they were led to were on the second floor, and were side by side. Both were the same size, and both were rather spartan but clean. Each of them had three beds in it, a single stand with washbasin and water, and pegs along the only free wall for cloaks and clothes. A lamp was set into the wall near the door, and the innkeeper lit this lamp with his candle in each room after opening the door. The room key was sitting on the basin table, duplicate of the one the innkeeper had used to unlock the doors from the outside. Tarrin had slept in this inn before, but not in this particular room. He knew that the window would have a good view of the village and the forest below, but right now there was only darkness. "Bring the packs to this room," Faalken told the innkeeper as he moved into the room. "Alright, boys, pick a bed. The one by the window is mine."
"I don't care," Walten grunted, flopping down on the one against the far wall, by the washbasin. That left Tarrin the one beside the door.
Tarrin sat down on the bed, surprised at how soft it was, and took off his boots. Dolanna's healing touch had taken away the pain of a day in the saddle, but not the aching weariness of a day's full activity. Two men brought up all their packs and Tarrin's staff and bow, along with Faalken's shield he'd hung from the saddlebow of his horse. Tarrin and Walten took Tiella and Dolanna their personal packs, and by the time they returned, two young, pretty women in simple dresses came into the room with large trays. "Master Luhan bade us bring you dinner," she said with a coy look at Faalken.
"Just set it anywhere, and mind you bring up the Lady's dinner quickly," he told her.
"Yes, my Lord," she said with a little bob, and the two women set their trays of foo
d and drink down carefully on Tarrin's bed so as not to spill them, and hurried back out.
"Dinner!" Walten said happily, snatching up a plate and a mug of ale. He sat down on his bed, put his plate on his lap and flagon on the floor, and tore into it like a starving wolf. Tarrin handed Faalken a tray and flagon, then started on his own. He had to admit, their cook was very good. The meat was seasoned while it was roasted, and seasoned well, and the potatos had spices in them that Tarrin had never experienced. It was amazingly good.
"Luhan's wife is Shacèan," Faalken said, reading the surprise in the faces of his charges. "She cooks in their classic style, which involves using spices. Luhan grumbles at the price of those spices, but he more than makes up for the cost with the food he sells."
"It's like nothing I've ever had," Walten said. "My mother uses spices, but only what grows around the village."
"These don't grow anywhere but Shacè," Faalken told him.
"No wonder they're expensive," Tarrin mused as he took a sip of the ale. He was surprised. It was his father's. Tarrin could tell his father's ale as clearly as a smith could see the difference between a forge and an anvil. He laughed ruefully. "This is my father's ale," he said.
Walten took another drink of his. "It is, isn't it?" he agreed with a grin.
"Then your father's a good brewer," Faalken said.
"It's a hobby of his," Tarrin said. "I'll have to tell him that people who buy it are selling it instead of drinking it," he said mainly to himself.
"Well, eat fast, cause we'll be up very early," Faalken cautioned. "I suggest you go to bed right after you eat."
"I intend to," Walten groaned, putting his hand to his back. "Mistress Dolanna took away the pain, but not the soreness."
"With good reason," he replied. "What you're feeling is exhaustion, not just saddlesores. If she'd taken that away, you wouldn't want to sleep. And you need it. Healing isn't just a touch and you're well. It drains away some of your own strength, as well as some of hers, before the magic of it puts some of it back. That's why it's not an entirely pleasant feeling."
"You can say that again," Tarrin agreed. "It felt like she put ice down my shirt."
"That's as good a description as any," Faalken chuckled. "It's worse the more she has to heal." He took a drink from his flagon. "If you're hurt too badly, it'll kill you before it can heal you, if the healer isn't very careful."
"What can Dolanna do with magic?" Tarrin asked impulsively.
"I'm not going to answer that," he said bluntly. "I'll leave the explanations of it up to her. I'd be a bad teacher anyway." He looked at both of them, seeing that they were done. "Finish your ale and let's go to bed."
"What about the dishes?" Tarrin asked.
"Oh, we put them on the trays and set them out in the hall. Luhan or someone else will pick them up later. Now let's get to bed."
They put their dishes out, undressed for bed, and Tarrin put out the lamp after they locked the door.
Wake up, something seemed to whisper to him. You have to wake up.
Tarrin awoke in the middle of the night. He had no idea why; usually he was a very light sleeper, but he didn't wake up unless there was a reason. He looked around. Walten and Faalken were still asleep. The window was open, and a cool breeze blew in from the rather warm summer night outside, the top of his windowsill illuminated in a very faint ruddy light. Could that be what woke him up? That light was probably a torch, held by a watchman or a latecomer down below.
He decided he was just jumpy, being the first night out, and laid back down, ready to go back to sleep.
Then he heard it again.
It was the faintest of noises, like the sound of a man stepping on a twig, but not quite. It came from under the floor, where the kitchen was. He swung his legs out of bed, wanting to get a candle.
The floor was hot.
Tarrin pulled his feet back up quickly and reached down and put a hand on the floor. It was hot. Very hot. That could only mean one thing.
The kitchen was on fire.
"Faalken!" Tarrin called quickly, reaching over and grabbing his boots. His boots were noticably warm where they were sitting on the floor. "Faalken!"
"What is it?" he asked in a calm voice.
"The floor is very hot. I think the kitchen is on fire."
Faalken reached out and put his hand on the floor, then snatched it back. "I think you're right. Walten!"
"I'm up," he said grimly.
"Get on your boots and get Dolanna," he ordered. "Tarrin, go downstairs and make sure. If there is a fire, get everyone up and out of the inn."
"Yes sir," Tarrin said, yanking on his boots quickly and jumping out of the bed. He went to put his hand on the door, then yelped and drew it back. "Aaii!" he hissed, shaking his hand. "Faalken, the hall must be on fire! I can't even put my hand on the door!"
They could hear it now, the rushing, roaring, and crackling that came with a fire. Smoke began to pour in from under the door.
Faalken jumped out of bed and grabbed his metal gauntlet, put it on, and smashed his hand through the wall between their room and the room holding Dolanna and Tiella. "Dolanna!" Faalken shouted. "Dolanna, there's a fire! Get up!"
"Faalken!" she called in reply. "It is too large for me to try to affect! We have to go out the windows! Throw our packs down and jump out the windows!"
"Tarrin, Walten start throwing out packs!" Faalken ordered, getting on his boots. "I'll go out first and catch the ladies as they jump!"
"Come on!" Walten called urgently to Tarrin as they ran to the packs stacked neatly in the corner. They quickly formed a unit. Tarrin would toss packs to Walten, who was standing by the window, who would then throw them to the ground one story below. Tarrin picked up the last pack and threw it to Walten, then he started collecting up Faalken's armor and his sword belt. "Go on, I'll get these!" Tarrin ordered.
"Alright, I'll catch them on the ground," Walten said, climbing into the window and then dropping out of view. Tarrin waddled across the room under the heavy burden of the weapons and armor, then carefully dropped them out of the open window. Tarrin saw many people in nightclothes milling about on the grass below as many of them threw buckets of water on a raging fire on the first floor and a bit to Tarrin's right. That was the light that had illuminated the top of the windowsill. "Tarrin, come on!" Walten called, waving his hand.
"I have to get my things!" he said. "I have time!"
Tarrin rushed back in and grabbed his bow and staff, made a fast sweep to make sure they hadn't left anything, and then ran back to the windowsill. Just as he reached it, there was a loud bang behind him, and he suddenly found himself smashed against the wall. On his kness, he turned and looked as he felt sudden, searing heat against his back and side.
The door had exploded inward under the heat, and the raging inferno was sweeping into the room like water. Tarrin saw something for a fleeting instant, and then saw it again. It almost looked like a man, except its outline was one of flames, and it was almost invisible in the conflagration around it. But he could see its eyes, green slits or pure light that stared out from the flames like twin beacons of doom. It seemed to point at him, and the fire erupted at him like water rushing from a cracked dam.
Blinking away his surprise, he quickly got to his feet as the fire swept in after him. He didn't have time to do this gracefully. Just as the fire was about to engulf him, he turned and dove headfirst out the window.
There was a feeling of weightlessness, as the ruddy-illuminated ground changed places with the starry sky in a whimsical manner, and then there was a numbing pain all along his right side and the back of his head. He felt his mind swirl around like the sky and ground had done, so much so that just trying to remember how to move was quite a chore. He managed to roll over and get onto his hands and knees, but his head refused to respond to his commands to lift it, hanging limply from his shoulder as he groggily tried to get up.
He got some semblance of response from his neck. His head
lifted partially up, but his brain instantly swam in a haze of distorted pain and disorientation. It proved to be too much for him. Without a sound, Tarrin slumped down to the ground as his mind descended into darkness.
Tarrin was first aware of the light. He opened his eyes as they registered a dancing, wavering light against the inside of his eyelids. He was laying on the ground on his back, staring up at the stars, partially hidden by smoke. Dolanna, in a nightshirt, was kneeling beside him, and his body registered an icy after-feeling and an exhaustion that he wasn't used to feeling. The wavering light was the fire. It had totally consumed the entire structure, regardless of the attempts to put it out, and now men and women worked feverishly to keep it from spreading to other buildings. They were well away from the blaze. Walten and Tiella stood nearby with Faalken, the three of them holding onto the reins of their horses. Their packs were both on the ground nearby and on the horses; obviously they'd been tying them on to make it easier to move. Tiella was in a nightshirt, and Walten in nothing but breeches and boots. Faalken had found the time to put on both his clothes and his armor.
"The next time you decide to dive out of a window," Dolanna said with a crisp voice but a smile in her eyes, "try to land on your feet."
"I'll remember that," he grunted as he sat up. "What happened?"
The Tower of Sorcery Page 6