Destiny (The Keeper's Trilogy Book 1)

by Olivia Ali

  Chapter 18 - Last Orders

  A raucous of cheers erupted as Tristan entered the Green Clover Inn later that evening, rather surprised at how many people were already there even at this early hour. He smiled brightly, his bad mood already improving. This afternoon had been one filled with errands, the latest of which had been running by the Smithy to tell them that he would not be returning to work for the foreseeable future. You can imagine how that went down with Lionel’s sons who would now have to pick up his shifts and work even harder to keep the place tipping over whilst their father was away. Neither were happy with that predicament – they never really cared much for the Smithy; they were too obsessed with their own meaningless lives as Knights of the City Guard. Even Balderick would say they were lazy layabouts.

  “Tristan, come sit your arse over ‘ere!” demanded Balderick, clapping a hand on the stool next to him over by the bar as Dante placed a fresh beer atop the work surface.

  “Tell you what that beer is needed today,” Tristan sighed exasperatedly as he came over and took a sip. “You not joining us Dante?”

  “Aha, you wish!” Dante winked, leaning on his elbow on the counter for a moment before the rush came on again. “A certain barmaid quit her job today out of the blue. Personally, I’m rather glad to be rid of the wench…but then I found out that it meant I would have to cover her shift until Iain could get in to cover me. So in answer to your question, I will be joining you in approximately one hour.”

  “I’m going to assume this certain barmaid would be Jenni?”

  “Well yes, but that’s not what I would call her. According to Gregory she came in this morning like an hour before her shift and said she wouldn’t be working it or working here ever again. She didn’t even let him say anything in response, she just turned on her heel and left. At first, he didn’t think she was serious…of course when she never showed up, we gathered she was being serious. Tell me, you wouldn’t have anything to do with her not being here, would you?”

  “Unless you count me basically telling her to leave me alone then no.”

  “I thought as much, excuse me.”

  Tristan took another sip of his beer as Dante jumped up to serve a couple of people that came over to the bar, one of which was Merlin. Once he had his drink, he joined Balderick and Tristan, listening in on their conversation of the day’s events with Dante adding his input whenever he had a spare minute. When he finally joined them, the others were already on their third drink so he had a lot of catching up to do. But he made short work of it and was chatting up one of the other barmaids in no time.

  “What?” Tristan asked as he saw Balderick shaking his head, blinking his eyes funnily as the beer started to attempt control of him.

  “Oh, it’s just amazing how little someone can change in over a thousand years.” Balderick explained. “Heck, I can’t even believe that it’s been that long – it doesn’t even feel it. Even more so the fact that most of that time he’s spent in the Land of the Faded.”

  “You were too though, minus fifty years that is.”

  “But you see the difference is I’ve changed. I’ve had to; to ensure my survival. Plus, I’ve had kids and that always changes you whether you like it or not. But Dante…he has nothing to fear and therefore no reason to change. I mean it’s not as if the Keepers will catch up to him…there’s none of them left.”

  “Doesn’t mean he’s not changed, just because you can’t see it I mean…”

  “True, very true.”

  As Balderick gulped down the last of his ale, Tristan looked over as the door to the bar opened and closed once again; another anonymous punter entering the bar and taking a pew. Noticing the darkness outside, he began to accept the fact that his father was probably not going to show up. Swallowing the last of his beer, he felt a sharp hand clap him on the back as an unknown bystander came to stand by his side.

  “Care for another?” came the voice of a man, as Tristan turned to look at the owner of the offer. “On me of course!” The voice was that of his father, encouraging a relieved smile upon Tristan’s face. “Sorry I’m late…the council meeting overran.”

  “That’s alright father, you’re here now.” Tristan replied, his voice unevenly pitched due to the amount he had already drank.

  “What are you drinking? I’ll join you for one and then settle for a softer drink I think.”

  “Well, if you’re offering, I’ll have another beer if you please?”

  “That’s my boy, Samson get this man another beer.”

  The rest of the evening frolicked on drunkenly giving Tristan, Dante and Merlin the send-off they deserved. But of course, the morning wasn’t so jovial or welcoming for that matter. However as far as hangovers went, this one wasn’t as bad as it usually was. To his surprise, Tristan awoke in his own room feeling a little worse for wear, his stomach performing somersaults before he’d even had chance to contemplate his surroundings. As he moved himself into a more upright position, he felt his head join the circus acrobatics that were going on underneath his midriff. He gulped heavily, closing his eyes momentarily as a bell rang deep within his mind, the words ‘last orders’ accompanying it majestically. But not in a gentle majestic way that strikes with a feeling of awe, the heavy sort of majestic that strikes with nothing more than fear and sheer bewilderment. That feeling hit him in the stomach like one of those somersaults where you fall on your bottom as opposed to your feet, and sent him straight into the washroom to hurl the contents of his stomach into the john.

  The queasy feeling had subsided slightly by the time he made it down the stairs to slump at the kitchen table, the aroma of whatever his father was cooking sending his stomach into an encore.

  “Oh how the mighty have fallen!” Theorryn laughed as he turned to face his pale faced son. “I do not miss that feeling.” Taking his pan off the cooking fire, he ladled the brown liquid in to a goblet and placed it in front of Tristan before pouring the last of into one for himself. “Drink that, it will help trust me.” He took a sip of his own after letting it simmer, breathing a sigh of relief as the taste turned to a feeling of energy erupting through his body.

  Tristan took in a whiff of the brown liquid’s aroma. The smell bought with it the all too familiar feeling of drunkenness and how the both his head and stomach needed fixing before his long journey began.

  “So, how did I get back here?” Tristan asked as he swirled the liquid around a little before chucking some down his throat, the unknown substance burning his tongue slightly as he swallowed it. A nutty taste welcomed him, embracing him for the strong grainy palate that was followed by a musky aftertaste. He wouldn’t have called it a taste he relished, but he certainly savoured the feeling of the hot liquid as it swam through his insides, melting all the queasy and sleepy feelings that remained in his body from his drunken stupor that evening. Nodding his head in appreciation, he took another sip, this time less so as not to burn his tongue further.

  “A little after last orders you disappeared,” Theorryn explained. “Balderick figured you’d headed back to his so went to check whilst me and Dante searched the surroundings of the inn. Of course, what we found wasn’t exactly pleasant but it was heading for the city gates which told me that you were wondering off home sicking up all the way. We found you passed out on your bed.”

  “And Dante?”

  “As far as I’m aware he and Balderick headed back to the inn for a nightcap.” Theorryn shock his head, swallowing the last of his goblet and tipping the dregs onto the flowers that sat in the basket on the open kitchen window. “The beauty of coffee; how it manages to pour life and being into that of a human and even prolong the life of a simple flower.”

  “Coffee?” Tristan questioned, swallowing the last of his too.

  “Yep, that’s what the Abersonians call it anyway.”

  “What time is it?” asked Tristan after a while, his thoughts suddenly becoming clear against the dull after-feeling the beer had given him.

&nbs
p; “By my guess, a little before mid-morning.”

  “So much for leaving at mid-morning.”

  “I guess you better get your rear in gear then.”

  “I guess I better. One last thing though?”

  “Anything my boy!”

  “Meet us at the Southern gate in about an hour. It would be nice to have someone to wave us off.”

  “I’ll be there.” Theorryn winked to Tristan, picking his goblet off of the table as his son left the comfort of his childhood home.

  Tristan stood below the window to the attic room in the Green Clover Inn. He pondered for a moment, wondering if Dante had even welcomed the prospect of waking up. Balderick came to stand by his side; he’d been out when Tristan had returned to clothe and wash himself but it was nice to see someone else looking as falsely fresh faced as he did.

  “How’s the hangover?” he asked, folding his arms and standing beside Tristan, following his gaze up to the open window.

  “Fading,” Tristan replied despondently. “What’s the betting he’s not even awake yet?”

  “Why don’t we find out?”

  Balderick bent over and retrieved a pebble from the side of the cobblestoned pavement. Weighting the pebble in his hand, he took aim and threw it through the open window, the clanging noise telling him he’d most likely overshot the bed slightly and hit the washbasin. Cursing the air, he picked up another, took aim and threw; a smashing sound erupting moments later. An ornament of some sort perhaps? Cursing again, he picked up another stone, this time throwing it harder. The sound that welcomed it this time was not one he was expecting – the scream of a woman. Flinching, both he and Tristan remained reluctantly rooted to the spot. A sharp slap sounded, followed by a disgruntled ‘ouch’ and the slamming of a door…twice.

  A few moments later, the door to the inn burst open and a sheepish looking woman stormed past them, her pink dress torn in places and her blonde hair covering a single red tinged cheek. Another, who could easily have been her twin followed, her attire sweeping behind her in the same fashion. Confused, both the men stared back up at the window to see a stunned Dante looking angrily back at them.

  “Alright there brother?” Balderick called, a smile touching his lips as he put two and two together. “Nice catch!”

  “Thanks,” Dante replied gruffly. “Now will one of you kindly point the finger to which one threw the rocks?” Without even thinking about it, Balderick pointed straight at Tristan, not even giving him a chance to do the same.

  “In my defence, it was Balderick’s idea.” Tristan took the blame boldly. Little did he know he would come to regret it.

  “So, if Balderick had an idea that you should jump off a cliff would you do it? Actually, don’t answer that.”

  “Tell me, what caused her to uh…” Balderick pointed to his own cheek, forcing Dante to lift his hand to his face and feel the red-hot mark that was slowly appearing.

  “Well, the rock landed right on my forehead.” Dante touched his forehead and Tristan noticed a break in his skin. It really was a good shot from the Knight Commander. “Of course, my reaction was to slap it as though it was some bug or something. Let’s just say…my aim was a little off.”

  Both Tristan and Balderick burst into fits of laughter, both clapping each other on the back and shoulders. As soon as they had gained control of themselves, they ushered Dante along, telling him they had to be ready to leave in less than an hour. Of course, he took longer, and a little over an hour later the three travelling companions were all saddled up and ready to leave with Balderick and Theorryn to wave them off.

  Before turning his back on the city, he had called home for so long now, Tristan looked over his shoulder one last time, watching as the people of Az Lagní finally rose from their houses and began the day’s work; a little later than they should’ve been but most of them had probably spent the evening drinking alongside Tristan. Next, he looked to the faces of his companions. Merlin looked determined and ready to begin a new adventure, Dante on the other hand was practically falling asleep in his saddle. Those barmaids must’ve been a good ride. Lastly, he looked to the faces of Balderick and his father whose faces bade a thousand previous goodbyes both had said to their corresponding grievances. Dante clapped his hand on Balderick’s shoulder, the two bidding a silent goodbye to the other and a wish to see each other again soon. Theorryn on the other hand stepped forward, patting his hand on the flank of Tristan’s horse.

  “I’ve never been one for goodbyes…” his father began.

  “Me neither!” Tristan interjected. “So let’s leave it at see you soon.”

  Both nodded to the other, a smile touching their faces as they shock hands. The three made their way towards the rising sun and the southern gates, Tristan knowing that this was only the beginning of everything that was coming his way. Looking back one last time, he caught sight of Jenni loading up a wagon with all her things, her disappointed brother giving her a hand. The image of another woman appeared next to her like a mirage, a mighty smile upon her face as though she were saying ‘that’s right, get out of here.’ The image was that of his Dags and no sooner had the two shared eye contact and a bright smile relit the flame within him, he knew she too awaited him somewhere out there. As she faded like the shadows in the noon sun, he turned back to face forward and follow Dante and Merlin in the direction of the Mountain Pass and onward towards Dilu.

  Chapter 19 - A Detour

  With a final push, the wagon rolled heavily in through the gates of Ragnur. Tristan and Dante had been pushing it since noon when one of the wheels’ spokes had snapped, crushing it under the pressure of all their belongings. Merlin had been ‘driving the horses’ so of course; he was fine. The other two however dropped to the floor; their lungs heaving as they caught their breath.

  Ragnur was a rich man’s town. High lords and royally clad ladies draped in all their finery paraded around the town, fat coin purses at their belt buckles, practically ready to burst. As one of them walked past, he threw a coin in their direction, laughing heartily when he passed. Tristan shook his head in a cursing manner, jeering at the man as he turned his back on them.

  “Pompous git!” Dante swore, pushing himself up off the ground before lending a hand to Tristan and helping him to his feet.

  “You know, my rear is so numb from all that travelling,” Merlin strained as he stretched himself out. Three days on horseback had given him a stiff back. Tristan and Dante looked to each other and shook their heads. He was being sarcastic of course but that didn’t make it any funnier. “Tell you what, why don’t you boys head on into that inn and get yourselves a nice drink. I’ll find someone who can fix this here wagon.”

  “Well isn’t that nice of you old man,” grunted Dante. “Don’t count on me getting you one in though.”

  Warily, Dante made his way towards the inn, Tristan following a little way behind muttering something under his breath. No doubt it was some curse slating Merlin’s good name. The inn was quiet on the inside, a low grumble of lunch time punters enjoying the grub. Tristan and Dante slumped into a booth, motioning for the barman to come over.

  “What can I get you sirs then? If you’re after food we have a nice roast steak with potatoes and veg. How ‘bout it?” The man had a gruff voice and scratched his abnormally large belly as he waited for the men to respond. The landlord was perhaps the most unexpected image of a rich man within the whole of Ragnur, in fact this whole bar was the bottom end of the spectrum compared to the grandeur of the rest of the town. “Well? Ya called me over here so tell me what ya want!” This time the man scratched his bald head which wasn’t even shiny in the bright lights of the midday sun shining through the window.

  “I’ll take the steak,” sighed Dante. “But well done…I want it literally like charcoal if possible.”

  “Crazy goof! But I’ll see wha’ we can do for ya. Anything to drink?”

  “Ale…good strong ale.”

  “Coming up, and yourself sir.”r />
  “I’ll take the same…only not charcoal,” sneered Tristan. “Just burn off all the red bits.”

  “Both of ya’ are crazy. Steak needs to be blue but ah well suit yourself. Drink?”

  “Beer please.”

  “Coming up!”

  The drinks arrived promptly in well-polished glasses that contrasted against the sloppy looking joint. Even the plates of steak and vegetables were shined to the brim that not even gravy tainted. The food was just as good, and cheap for the quality of it all. Merlin wondered in a little after they’d finished and slumped down next to Tristan, wiping his finger along the plate for a taste.

  “Not bad if I do say so myself,” Merlin applauded, licking his lips. “Afraid we’re going to have to stop the night. Stable owner is very busy today, said he can’t get around to it till much later but it will definitely be done by tomorrow. So I paid the man to board the horses and figured we could get our heads down for a decent sleep for one night at least.”