by William Cali
Pent reflexively felt for his shoulder holster, grimacing when he realized his gun wasn’t there.
“I feel safe when I’m prepared. There are statistics that would say it’s a safe place. And it generally is, when you’re prepared.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know who statistics are. You are able to travel anywhere in your world and feel safe?”
“Well no, that’s a bit much. I mean, the world is a huge place. There are always places where you have to keep your eyes open.”
“Places you have to keep your eyes open… Well, in this world, that’s everywhere.” She took a bite out of a sausage link, never taking her eyes off Pent. “Somerville is safe enough, but if you were to follow the river out to the coast? Or go too far north? There are dangers out in those parts, and not just fantasies pulled from old tales.”
“I see, so it’s better to stay in town.” Is that what she meant by people being taken advantage of? “Doesn’t help so much when you need to find something to eat though.”
“We grow enough food on our own to survive. We pull water from the river. And when we do venture outside, well, we tread carefully. At least I hope they do… It’s been a long time since I’ve been out there myself.”
“You hunt too?” Pent studied her from top to bottom. She was slim, but her arms and legs were well toned. And I guess you don’t need to be a bodybuilder to catch a squirrel.
“Oh yes, I taught Hanar everything he knows. Or most of what he knows. The good habits, those are what I taught him.” She sighed. “The last time I tried to venture out into the wild, half the town lost their minds. The chief told me that I was invaluable to Somerville and that I had too many skills to risk losing me out in the wilderness. He said to ‘leave the hunting for the brainless oafs.’” She shook her head. “I wish he would be less harsh with Hanar, but I suppose I understand his fear. There are dangers near and far, to be sure. But I don’t believe there is any harm with venturing out if you know what you’re doing.” She clapped her palms together. “It’s as you said, you need to keep your eyes open.”
“Right, right.” He scratched his head. “You know, if you wanted to be a little bit safer, maybe you could make weapons to help with that. Just having something to defend yourself… It’s always better to be prepared.” He gestured with his thumb to the entrance of her home. “I just talked with that guy who lives in the cone house with smoke coming out the top. He makes all kinds of stuff out of metal.”
“Cenk is something of an expert with metalworking.” She shifted nervously in place.
“Does he not make weapons? You get him to make you guys a couple of swords, some helmets, and armor, and you can get some real Braveheart action out here.”
She smiled, but there was no humor in it, and the weariness in her face made her look a decade older.
“He used to make weapons. All manner of armors and swords, but he’s not allowed to make them anymore.”
“Not allowed? The chief doesn’t like that?”
“It’s not that. It doesn’t really matter, you shouldn’t worry about it.” She stood up, placing the empty plate into a metal bucket. “There’s an order to the way things work here. We’re all pretty comfortable with that order.” She walked toward Pent, who got up as she approached. Lyle kept smiling, but Pent saw only sadness in it. “As long as you can follow that pattern the way we do, I’m sure you’ll be comfortable too.”
Pent nodded slowly and took her lead to walk towards the door. No dice on finding a ticket out of here. And everyone seems real sensitive about this weapon stuff. All this talk about danger and order, just like that wizard. With a shake of his head, he made his way out of the room and back into town.
* * *
He had walked only a few steps from Lyle’s place when he was accosted from behind.
“Hello there! You must be the newcomer that Hanar brought to us.” The speaker was a well-groomed man, thin as a rail, with dark hair, and a mustache that could have been drawn on. The coat he had on was stylish compared to the flowing tunics everyone else seemed to wear. “My name is Riven. I’m the doctor of Somerville.” He had a pleasant smile, and a deeper voice than Pent would have expected. He stuck out a hand for Pent to shake.
Pent smiled back and grasped his hand. The grip was loose, his fingers felt like jelly. “Nice to meet you, my name is Pent.”
“An interesting name,” Riven said. He smiled wider as he freed himself from Pent’s grip, and then studied his fingers briefly before continuing, “I see you’re making your way around the townsfolk.”
“I’m doing what I can. There’s a lot of you guys, though, and not enough time in a day to talk to everyone.”
“You seem like a capable man, I’m sure you can handle this lot. We’re a simple people here in Somerville.” He chuckled and patted Pent on the shoulder. Pent was afraid this doctor’s jaw would lock up, considering how much he was smiling. “I’m afraid I have a busy day ahead of me, but I just wanted a chance to introduce myself. Not everyone here is afraid of new things and change, remember that, Pent.”
“Yeah, I will, thanks.” Pent stared after Riven as he walked away, past the center of town. That’s the guy Hanar said was from the north. Seems like a busy man, and way too friendly. I guess a doctor needs to have a good bedside manner. He shrugged and moved on.
Chapter Eleven
“Come in, Lyle. Close the door behind you. Move quickly, you’re letting the chill in.”
Mother Lyle closed the door to the chief’s house quickly, but delicately. At this late hour, she didn’t want to make any kind of startling noises. A candle crackled by the windowsill, the wick burnt nearly to the end. She squinted across the dimly lit room and saw the chief sitting at the end of his dining table. Riven and the builder Faldo flanked him on both sides. She made her way to the table and sat next to Riven.
“It’s not right for us to meet here in the dark, not without Hanar. It’s unfair to both of them,” Lyle said. “He’s spent more time with the newcomer than any of us.”
Chief Pohk frowned at her, and said, “I’m not interested in fantastical accounts from Hanar. I don’t care how close you are to him.”
“Well now, sir, I think Mother Lyle has a good point.” Riven had a tendency to tap his fingers on the table as he spoke, and he did so now. Lyle always found his deep voice to be soothing, but the finger tapping annoyed her. It was an impatient gesture, and she couldn’t tell if he was bored or if he had somewhere better to be. “Hanar has the most insight on who this man is. You can’t discount that.”
“I can discount it because Hanar is a discountable person,” the chief grumbled. “He’s unreliable. He spends most of his time wandering aimlessly around the woods and then comes back with tales about magic men he’s met. His tales fill no stomachs… What use is a hunter who does not hunt?”
“That’s not fair either,” Lyle said. “We’ve all dined on fish and meat that Hanar has gathered. He is excitable and easily distracted, sure, but he is still a valuable part of this community.” Lyle was trying her best to mask her feelings. It was difficult to hold back her frustration at the chief’s pointless slander.
“We’ve just started,” the burly Faldo said, “and already we’ve strayed far from the point of this discussion.” As the architect spoke up for the first time, he crossed his broad arms across his chest. “We’re not here to question Hanar. We’ve all known him for years. His oddities aside, he’s one of us.” He leaned forward in his chair. “We’re here to question this newcomer. Pent.”
The chief nodded, “That’s right, and you all know how I feel about this. It’s not safe, taking in some mystery man who looks unlike anything we’ve ever seen. We have no idea what kind of trouble he may cause us.”
“You are full of complaints as always, sir, but seem sparse on solutions. What is it you suggest? To send him out in the wilderness to fend for himself?” Lyle asked.
Faldo responded, “Well, he seemed to be do
ing a fine enough job before. He made it to Somerville, and he looks like he’s in good enough shape. I bet he could strangle a treehopper with his bare hands.”
“Or maybe one of us,” the chief added.
Lyle scoffed, pushing away from the table. How can these men be so cruel?
“Faldo, have you even spoken a single word with the man? You’re already prepared to condemn him.” She glared at Faldo, but he met her gaze unflinching. Neither side relented in their staring match. “If what he’s saying is true, he’s in an impossibly desperate situation. He’s been thrown here against his will and without any explanation of how or why.”
The chief snorted out a skeptical laugh.
“If you believe what he’s saying is true, it sounds very desperate. And it also sounds very convenient to me. More magical tales of people frolicking in the woods. Who has ever heard a tale such as this, with men dropping out of the sky? I don’t believe it.” He pointed a finger at Mother Lyle. “You’re too gentle. This kind of pandering will be the death of us all.”
Faldo broke away from the staring contest and nodded slowly.
“That’s not how I would put it, but the chief is making some good sense. We don’t know this man, and we don’t know where he’s from. We have nothing but his word to count on. What if he’s lying? We don’t know what he’s capable of.” He regarded Mother Lyle. “What makes you trust him?”
“Hanar said he witnessed him fall from the sky firsthand,” she said after a brief pause. “Hanar speaks for him, and I trust Hanar. That’s why you need to have this meeting with Hanar present. Don’t interrogate me on his behalf.” She shook her head slowly. “This village is built on more than just stones and wood, Faldo. It’s built on trust as well. These secret meetings are folly. Four people can’t decide what’s right for everyone who lives here.” She caught her breath and then studied Riven. “You’ve been quiet. What do you think about Pent?”
Riven had been oddly quiet, but all at once his fingers began tapping on the table.
“I’ve only spoken with him once, but he seems a fine person. I think it would be in our best interests to allow him to stay.” His eyebrows rose when the chief snorted. “If he does have ill will towards us, the wisest course would be for him to stay in the village. Here we can keep an eye on him.”
“And here he can keep an eye on us. Don’t be absurd, if he wants to do us harm, being here is the best place for him to do just that,” the chief said.
“I think you are growing too fearful in your old age, sir. There are many capable men in Somerville who would defend us if it ever came to blows. You shouldn’t be so worrisome.” Riven smiled as he spoke.
Chief Pohk’s face went as red as an apple. Before he could speak, Faldo raised his palms in a defusing manner and said: “All right, all right. Calmer heads will speak more sense than upset ones. In any case, it seems that half of us are in favor of him staying around. And you speak true, Mother Lyle. I’m not willing to condemn a man I haven’t spoken to just because he’s a bit out of the ordinary. So that’s three votes to one, chief. I think there’s cause for him to stay. I think we should do our best to keep things as normal as they can be. We don’t want to upset Gilbrand if we can help it.”
They all went quiet at the mention of his name. Lyle felt her stomach churn, and she shook her head in disgust.
The chief broke their silence: “Fine, fine. I won’t press this so hard that I lose sleep over it. We’ve all heard each other; he can stay. I would ask that you all keep an eye on him and let me know if anything seems amiss.” He grumbled to himself and struggled to rise to his feet. Lyle felt a panging sadness for him at that moment; he had never seemed so old as far as she could remember. “Go on and leave me to my rest.”
With that, they all wished the chief a good night and left his home. Faldo yawned and rubbed at his neck as he strode past, and she was sure that she saw the quirk of a small smile on Riven’s face. Lyle rubbed at her tired eyes as she followed them out.
Chapter Twelve
Pent awoke the next day feeling both refreshed and discomforted. He had been tired beyond his imagination. Coming to Somerville, whatever version of Somerville this was, had been an exhausting experience. He was so lost, but also enthralled by the simple villagers and their ways, like they had been ripped straight out of a fairy tale. For all this craziness, at least the people are pleasant enough. I don’t know anyone in my town who would have stuck up for a stranger like Hanar did for me. He was thankful just to be able to rest in a bed with a roof over his head.
If Pent was honest, though, he was not very thankful for the size of Hanar’s room. His neck and back had cramped up from the awkward angle he slept at. But he wasn’t going to raise those complaints to Hanar. Momma always taught me to count my blessings, and don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He rubbed the soreness in his neck as he put his clothes on, counting his blessings as well as he could.
Hanar was waiting for him when he stepped out of the house.
“The long sleeper has risen at last! You seem well rested friend, but how about well fed? Let us break our fast.”
Pent grunted his approval, adding: “I hear you on that.” He lifted his shirt up as they walked and smelled the inside. He was definitely missing the modern invention of deodorant. “Hanar, where does a guy go to take a bath in this place?”
Hanar pointed towards the entrance of town. “You will want to go to the river. But I usually attend to those matters in ponds I frequent in the forest.” He smiled sincerely. “I’d be happy to take you to one.”
Pent sighed aloud. “Terrific. I’ll hold off on that for now. How about getting a hold of some new clothes? I don’t know how much longer these are going to last me.”
“I’ll talk to Daley later. She lives at the edge of the town over there, and mostly keeps to herself. A creative spark runs deep in that family. Her brother Faldo pretty much built the entire place, and she keeps everyone from walking in the nude.”
“Seems like everyone contributes something in this village. I hope I can help out somehow, as long as I’m here anyway.”
“I’m sure you’ll find some way.” Hanar led them on a wide path around the village, walking across the town center. Pent had only been there a day, but he was sure the path to Mother Lyle’s house was more direct than the one they were taking. Everything I’ve seen so far; this village doesn’t seem that big. I don’t know how much help I’m really gonna find here.
“Hanar, you travel a lot, right? When’s the next time you’re gonna make your way to that big city up north? This is a nice place, but I doubt I’m gonna find answers here. I would take off by myself, but I’m definitely not confident in me making it all the way up there in one piece. Especially after everything Mother Lyle said to me. Can you take me to that northern village?”
* * *
“Well, hrm. I can’t say I’ve ever been there.” He paused, scratching at his beard. “Perhaps we could visit there together someday, but I doubt the chief would be pleased with me if I left Somerville now. Especially after I… well…”
“After you brought some scary looking stranger to the village, right?”
Hanar raised his hands defensively.
“Don’t misunderstand me, Pent. I don’t believe you plan any ill will towards us. But I spoke with the chief earlier, and he does not share my thoughts. Until he has calmed down, I feel responsible.” The woodsman glanced to the cliffs in the north, looking at the forests that lay beyond them. “I promise we’ll head north in search of answers when the time is right.”
“I feel you. I just don’t know how much help I’m really gonna get here. The only one who seemed like he could have a clue was your, uh, friend in the forest. And even that was lukewarm.” Pent sighed. “I’m thinking I might be stuck here for some time.”
Hanar grasped Pent by the shoulder and looked him in the eye as he said, “Well as long as you are stuck, I will try and help you wherever I can. Ask, and I shall
provide.” With that, he turned and continued on his out-of-the-way route through town.
Pent followed close behind, observing the villagers in their morning routines. They were all preoccupied with their own affairs, and a lot of the excitement from having a stranger in their village already seemed to be wearing off. At least they’re not staring anymore.
They were walking closer to the edge of the town, when Pent, struck by a startling thought, grabbed at Hanar’s shoulder.
“That’s a pretty big graveyard for how small this place is.”
Dozens of rounded stones covered the small field. Most were unmarked, but one in particular—a sculpture of a grizzled looking warrior upon a pedestal and lifting an ornate broadsword—stood out like a sore thumb. Looking at the graves filled Pent with a sense of melancholy. He had felt like this world was a fairy tale, but the reality of death brought clarity along with it.
“It makes sense, no matter what world you live in people die. And people want to mourn their dead,” he said, more to himself than Hanar.
“I suppose that’s true. Even Gordenthorpe says that no man can escape death.” They both stared at a man who wobbled into the graveyard. He fell to his knees and sobbed in front of one of the graves.
“You didn’t drag me out here to watch this, did you?”
Hanar shook his head. “No, no. I like to walk for a bit in the mornings. Breathe in the fresh air of a new day. My apologies for this bleak distraction.” They moved on, making their way to Mother Lyle’s place.
Right outside the door, Pent felt a certain compulsion. I said it myself, I might be stuck here for a long time. “Yo, Hanar. Before we step in there, I just want to know something. Is Lyle, you know, seeing anyone?”
“Seeing anyone?”