by AC Cobble
“If they haven’t attacked yet, there is still hope,” Amelie said to Ben. More to convince herself than him, he thought.
“How—” started Ben. The dying merchant interrupted him.
“Rhymer,” the man groaned. “He’s seen this coming for a long time. He’s been building up his army for years. He’s the only one who’s got the men to do something. He knows he can’t live with the Coalition. He might…” the man finished with a wet cough. A fountain of blood poured out of his mouth.
The clanging was intensifying outside. Ben realized the watch was heartbeats away from arriving. He grabbed Amelie and hauled her to her feet.
“We have to leave now, or we may not be leaving at all,” he demanded.
He tugged her toward the bar where he’d seen the staff fleeing through a doorway. The front was where the watch would arrive first. He hoped they could still slip out the back unnoticed.
The streets around the Plowman’s Rest were chaotic and Ben blinked in the bright sunlight. In the dimly lit bar, he’d forgotten it was still early afternoon.
People were running in all directions, mostly away. It was clear many of them didn’t know what they were running from. Shouts about attacks on Kirksbane mixed with more exotic conclusions.
Heavily armed city watch swarmed the area, many of them just as confused as the citizens. Ben spied the pair of guards who stopped them earlier that morning. They were calling out to their fellows asking where to go.
They wouldn’t get a better opportunity to escape unnoticed, realized Ben. Whether it was the city watch or Coalition flunkies, it would be hard for anyone to keep track of all of these people running around in confusion.
6
Endless Flight
The sun set behind the trees before Ben and Amelie stopped, comfortably back within the forest southeast of Kirksbane.
“That escalated quickly,” remarked Ben dryly. He wasn’t sure how to address the information they learned and what it would mean for Amelie. “What do we do now?”
“The Coalition attacked Issen. It’s war now,” she replied abruptly. “I’m shocked those men admitted they were Coalition in public. At least they got what they deserved,” she finished darkly.
Ben sighed and thought about how to comfort her. Her childhood home was under siege, and as far as they knew, her entire family was trapped in Issen. He had tried to talk to her while they were walking and she said to wait, that they needed to focus on getting away from Kirksbane. Now that they were away, he didn’t know where to start.
“It’s okay, Ben,” she said. “I’m worried. I’m scared for my family, but I can’t focus on that right now. You are right. We have to think about what to do next.”
“You don’t think we should go to Whitehall anymore?” asked Ben.
“If everything they said was true, then there’s no point in going there.”
“But, we have to tell Argren about the Sanctuary’s betrayal, right?” he insisted.
Amelie frowned and shook her head. “If Argren is reluctant to send help for Issen now, he will be even less likely to do so when he hears what we know. I think we were making a mistake, believing he would help once we told him about the Sanctuary. A man like Argren, when he has reason to believe the Sanctuary is poised to plunge a knife in his back, will never send his army elsewhere. What we heard proves it. He will keep his men close to home. We have to look elsewhere.”
“Northport then?” guessed Ben.
Amelie nodded. “It’s the only thing I can think of. Outside of Whitehall, Lord Rhymer is the only one with the power to stand up to the Coalition and the Sanctuary. I’m not sure he’ll do it, but I have to try something.”
Ben dropped his pack and began to look around the small clearing they occupied. “We might as well make camp here,” he suggested. “It’s a long way to Northport. We can get started at first light.”
Amelie slowly lowered her pack then stepped toward Ben. “Ben, we’ve gotten away from the Sanctuary. I will be eternally grateful that you risked your life and rescued me. If it wasn’t for you, I would be in Lord Jason’s custody or dead right now. I can’t thank you enough for that.”
Ben blushed and shrugged uncomfortably.
She placed a hand on his arm. “That was enough, Ben. You don’t have to do this. It’s too much for me to ask. You could go back to Farview or find somewhere else quiet and let all of this blow over.”
Ben frowned. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot since we left Free State. That is what they are doing, the Free Staters. They found somewhere quiet and are letting it all blow over. I don’t think I can do that. If I can help, then I have to. I can’t let these things happen if there is something I can do about it.”
“Northport is a long shot, Ben,” warned Amelie. “I’ve met Lord Rhymer. He thinks of only himself. If we convince him there is something in it for him, then maybe he’ll help. He won’t do it out of the goodness of his heart.”
“Then we’ll have to convince him,” declared Ben. “I know it will be hard, I know it will be dangerous, but I have to do this. I’ll go to Northport with you and I’ll help however I can. We are in this together, Amelie. Until it is over.”
Amelie let out a sob and wrapped her arms around Ben. They stood there in the quiet clearing, her sobbing into his shoulder and him holding her.
The next morning as they were preparing a quick bite to eat before getting back on the road, Ben recalled something from the day before.
“Amelie, do you remember the Coalition solider? Right before they knocked him down and jumped on him, did you see what he was doing?”
She shrugged. “I don’t remember much about the fight. It was a bloody blur to me.”
“I think he looked at me. Right into my eyes. He paused like he knew me.”
Amelie swallowed hard and grimaced.
“If he knew me…” continued Ben.
“Then others will know you too,” finished Amelie.
“They’ll know both of you,” called a new voice.
Ben jumped back, startled. Bartholomew was standing at the edge of the clearing. The man was positioned defensively with his hand on the hilt of his cutlass.
“You scared me!” exclaimed Ben, looking curiously at their former guide. “What are you doing here?”
Relaxing, Bartholomew chuckled and stepped forward. “Sorry about that. I heard about a ruckus in town yesterday. It sounded like something you two might be involved in. I checked around and found out you weren’t in the pile of bodies afterward. I’d done my errands and thought there was no sense in hanging around that place. Figured you might be hiding out in the woods, so I came looking.”
“Thanks,” said Ben uncertainly. “That is very kind of you, but we are okay.”
“No problem,” answered the one-eyed man. “Spent a few weeks with you folks. I guess I grew attached. I didn’t want something bad to happen to you.”
Ben edged closer to his pack and his longsword. Something wasn’t right here.
Bartholomew stepped forward again and slung his own pack down. “I left before I had breakfast this morning. I don’t suppose you have enough to share?”
Amelie nodded and glanced nervously at Ben. He stared ahead at Bartholomew. Then his gaze dipped down to the man’s pack. The pack was half full.
Ben lunged toward his longsword in the same heartbeat Bartholomew swept out his cutlass.
Ben rolled to his feet, and Amelie scrambled behind him. Her rapier and dagger were on the other side of the clearing.
“No breakfast to share?” remarked Bartholomew with a smirk.
“Why are you really here?” demanded Ben.
The man’s cutlass held steady in front of him as he looked over the clearing with his one good eye.
“This could have been easier and a lot less painful if you’d let me take you after you fell asleep tonight,” snarled Bartholomew.
“Sorry about that,” responded Ben. “You can walk away. That would be ea
sy to do.”
He was studying Bartholomew and his movements. In the woods, the man had proven to be a competent and experienced swordsman, but he was hampered by his missing eye. It affected his depth perception and he had difficulty adjusting to quick movements. Ben’s biggest concern was that the man was waiting for someone else to arrive. With Amelie unarmed, Ben did not want to face more than one attacker.
“Walk away? I don’t think so. I would have preferred the easy way, but this works too,” said Bartholomew with an evil smirk.
“You can’t beat me,” stated Ben coolly, fishing to see if Bartholomew would mention help on the way. “I’ve sparred with you. You don’t have the skill.”
“Boy, I’ve fought and killed more men than you have even known,” retorted Bartholomew confidently.
“Was that before or after they poked out your eye?” taunted Ben.
Bartholomew sneered. “A whore cut out my eye. And now she’s as dead as anyone else who ever came at me. I had a lot of fun with her before she died, though. I don’t think she enjoyed it.” He leered over Ben’s shoulder at Amelie. “It took days before she finally died.”
“A great slayer of unarmed whores? Pardon me if I’m not scared.” Ben stalled for time. It didn’t appear that Bartholomew was waiting for help. The longer he kept talking, the more Ben would find out about his motives. “I’m surprised you managed to defeat her and only lost one eye.”
“You don’t know me!” shouted Bartholomew. “You think because I was in Free State that I’m some peace lover like Myland? I wasn’t there because I’m frightened of my shadow like him. I was there because if I step foot in any port city on the Blood Bay, I’ll be hanged. I’m Black Bart, boy. I spent ten long years raping and pillaging my way from one side of that bay to the other. I had a pile of gold coins higher than you are tall. You could fill a house with the blood I spilled taking it.”
“You don’t have any of that gold left, I’m guessing?” chided Ben.
Bartholomew was getting emotional, something Saala taught Ben to avoid and something Rhys encouraged him to instigate in his opponents.
“I will, once I take your heads,” crowed Bartholomew. “That soldier offered me ten gold coins just for word of where you were going. He’s dead now, but there will be others. If news about you is worth ten, then I’ll ask a hundred for your head. Each,” he finished triumphantly.
“You have to take it first,” Ben challenged.
Bartholomew growled and charged forward. Ben was waiting. Instead of settling in a defensive stance, he charged as well. Momentarily, Bartholomew was confused, his lone eye adjusting to the rapid movement. It gave Ben time to smash aside the man’s cutlass and stick his longsword deep into the former pirate’s chest.
Bartholomew’s eye popped open wide in shock. Ben witnessed the life drain out of it before the man slumped backward, sliding off the sharp blade of Ben’s longsword.
“You’re getting good at that,” announced Amelie in a shaky voice.
“Maybe,” replied Ben. “He was over confident, and I used that. Thinking you are good doesn’t help you in a sword fight.”
“Do you think he really did what he said, killed scores of people?” asked Amelie. “He acted like he was a famous pirate.”
“I don’t know,” replied Ben with a shrug. “I’ve never heard of him.”
They quickly packed the rest of their gear, rifled through Bartholomew’s pack, then left the clearing. The dead pirate lay on his back in the pale morning sun.
7
Blood and Ashes
Getting around Kirksbane proved easy. The terrain was flat, and there were enough people about that the two of them did not stand out. Ben was worried there would be Sanctuary watchers, but they passed unmolested.
North of Kirksbane, they found a small track that steered away from the river. It continued north as far as they could tell. Thinking that was less likely to be watched than the river road, they started down it.
“This journey isn’t going as smoothly as I hoped it would,” muttered Amelie as they walked.
“I know,” agreed Ben. “Including the soldier at the Plowman’s Rest, that is three times now we’ve run into people who recognized us and were trying to capture or kill us. We lost Mathias already. It’s only a matter of time before someone else sees us and we aren’t able to defend ourselves.”
“I wish we had Mathias with us now,” said Amelie. “I didn’t know him well, but from what I saw, he was a practical man. There has to be a practical solution to this. Stumbling around and hoping for the best isn’t working.”
“I miss him too.” Ben sighed. His friend always had a way of cutting to the heart of a problem and finding an elegant, easy solution.
“Let’s think about it like he would,” Ben started. “Let’s lay out the facts. We need to get to Northport, time is a factor, we don’t know the way, we’re almost out of food, and we don’t have much money. There could be watchers from the Sanctuary or the Coalition ready to kill us at any turn.”
“That’s pretty depressing.” Amelie frowned. She plucked a tall blade of grass from the side of the track and swished it at low-hanging braches they passed. Slapping grass against branches didn’t do much to alleviate her frustration, but it was better than nothing.
Despite the somber topic, Ben grinned. “It is. Instead of thinking about all of it, let’s focus which of those problems we can solve and which ones we can’t solve.”
Amelie shrugged. “Worth a try, I guess. I don’t have anything better to do.” She hit a branch and broke her grass blade in two. She grunted then threw the grass into the woods.
“We’ve decided Northport is the only answer already, so let’s not change that. We can’t change the time factor because the Coalition isn’t going to wait on us, and we can’t change the fact that both them and the Sanctuary want to kill us. That leaves direction, food, and money,” summarized Ben.
“Are you planning to apply for a job?” asked Amelie mirthlessly.
“Direction and food then,” he answered. “I think we can agree those are problems that need to be solved.”
Amelie was down, but as she said weeks ago, they only had one choice now. That was to continue. He had to keep her spirits up. He thought a plan was the first step.
“I’ll give you that,” she answered. “Direction and food. What do you suggest?”
“Well, I said we don’t know the way to Northport, but we do know a little. The Venmoor River originates near there. I remember last time we talked about it being used for trade.”
Amelie nodded. “You are right about that.”
“Then the first thing we need to do is stop following this track and head back to the river,” he decided. “If that is the only way we know for sure gets us to Northport, then that is the way we need to go.”
“But there’s more risk of being found by the river,” argued Amelie.
“Remember,” suggested Ben, “we solve only the problems we can. We can’t stop them looking for us, but we can stop ourselves from going the wrong way. We don’t know where this track goes or how far out of the way it will lead us. For all we know, they could have a troop of guards and a mage waiting around the next bend.”
Amelie stayed silent. She didn’t have an answer for that.
“As for food,” declared Ben. “We can solve that once we get to the river.”
They sat and watched the water flow by silently. The crackle and pop of a small campfire was the only sound. Around them, a curtain of willow branches hung motionlessly in the still night air.
The fire was an indulgence after many nights of cold camps, but Ben figured the risk was mitigated now because there would be plenty of other travelers on the river road. A campfire wouldn’t draw any extra scrutiny.
The campsite he’d chosen was secluded. They were tucked away in a small willow grove on the land side of the road. It would be difficult for anyone to get a good look at them without stepping beneath the trees.
In the morning, they would take the broad flat road beside the river and hope for the best, but already, Ben doubted his plan. They would be incredibly exposed on the road. He realized it was almost certain watchers would be placed between Kirksbane and Northport. He didn’t want to tell Amelie that.
She had agreed to his plan simply because she didn’t have a better one. Amelie was determined to make Northport and try to help her family. She would risk anything to do it. He couldn’t let her do that. Getting captured would only make it worse.
In the still air, Ben detected a low sound and peered around curiously. In minutes, the sound grew clearer. He realized it was coming from up river and headed toward them.
In the distance, he spotted a dim light bobbing closer and he could detect faint words drifting across the water. The sound was a man singing on one of the river barges. He had a deep, sonorous voice. He filled the night with a humble melody. Ben saw the man reclining at the rear of the empty barge, leaning sleepily against the tiller. He must be singing to keep himself awake, thought Ben.
While the barge floated past, they listened to the singing, and Ben had an idea.
When the first shards of daylight sliced through the curtain of willow branches, Ben sat up. Today, they would find a river barge to ride north on.
Much like to the south of Kirksbane, the barges were floated downstream but were pulled upstream by a team of horses. The difference was, north of Kirksbane, the loaded barges headed up river and empty barges floating downriver—the opposite of what happened south of the town. The river traffic was primarily agricultural goods coming from the Sineook Valley and going to Northport, Venmoor, or even the City.
Pulling a loaded barge up river was hard work. A team of horses would walk along the bank with a stout rope tied to the barge. Men were needed to tend to the horses and also man the tiller. Occasionally, they used long poles to push off from the river bank.
Ben guessed it was difficult to get manpower to work the barges up river. It was seasonal work, and it looked hard. More men were needed going up than coming down.