by Henry Thomas
Eilyth took in the room and sat down at a table near the hearth where a fire lay smoldering. Joth settled in across from her, where he could see the door, and tried to shake off the resentment and anger that he had been feeling since they made the outskirts of Borsford. A serving girl bustled from behind the bar carrying two broad platters and a costly Rhaelish jug with animal motifs painted on it in greens and blues. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she caught sight of Eilyth’s hair and dress, and Joth thought for a moment that she would drop their food on the stone floor, but she somehow managed to regain a semblance of her composure and right the platter that had started dipping downward and deposit it on the table in front of Joth.
“As it please you, sir,” she stammered as she set the other plate in front of Eilyth, blatantly regarding her hair ornaments with disdain before adding a muttered “and you as well.”
“Leave that jug, if you please.” Joth caught her as she started away. Red-faced, she plopped the jug on the table before them and sped back behind the bar and out of the room. Eilyth watched her go with a quizzical expression on her face, then turned her attention to the platter before her and examined its contents curiously.
“Eggs,” Joth volunteered.
“Eggs?”
“Yes, chicken eggs. Toasted bread, some marrow bones, sausages and grilled leeks, some turnip mash; this is a proper breakfast.”
Eilyth smiled at him and he felt himself smiling back. She was laughing at him, at his enthusiasm, but Joth was past the point of being embarrassed by it any longer. He scooped the marrow from a split bone and spread a hearty layer onto his toast, holding it before him and savoring it before taking a huge bite and then falling against the back of his chair with his eyes closed, the picture of fulfillment and satisfaction. This elicited laughter from Eilyth until they had both nearly fallen out of their chairs after the serving girl made another brief appearance to see what all the commotion was.
“What have they brought us in here?” Joth peered into the Rhaelish jug then brought it to his nose. He had not smelled ale in months, but it was like cresting a hill and seeing one’s home again after a long journey away. “Oestern ale, let’s hope they make it well here.”
He poured the pitcher into two cups that he procured from behind the bar, the serving girl being nowhere in sight, and he and Eilyth talked quietly as they ate their breakfast and drank the ale, which was surprisingly excellent, in Joth’s estimation.
But he could not decide if it was truly great brew or if he had just missed and longed for the taste so much that it had improved its quality.
“Do you like it, lady?” he asked.
“It is strange at first, but yes, I do like it. I like the turnip mash more.” They laughed again as they finished their breakfast together near the fire and warmth of the hearth and for a moment all was right with Joth Andries’ world. He had made it to Borsford safely and relatively easily with the Lady Eilyth, now it was an easy journey by airship to the Oestern city of Twinton. Airships traveled swiftly, more swiftly than a seafaring ship, and much more safely. He had seen an airship before, not closely, but a few times at Immerdale the mages posted there had arrived and left by airship. Slim and graceful with their tubular, bulbous mainsails and large triangular lateral sails, they were said to resemble smaller versions of the tall sailing ships that rode the waves of the sea.
They flew by magic, by Goblincraft engines, and by the wind. The airship captains could operate how high or low the craft flew and the magic made the ship as light as a feather. How any of that was feasible was a mystery to Joth. It had been a childhood dream for him to travel the skies in one, but he never thought it would ever come to fruition. Joth had been born a commoner, and airships were the carriages of the highborn. He would soon know what it was to travel the sky. He would soon see it firsthand; that seemed almost impossible. The serving girl had finally plucked up enough courage to come and collect their platters. She kept glancing at them nervously, almost frantically, as she collected the scullery and organized it into a portable arrangement.
“Can you tell me where I can find the airships?” Joth asked the befuddled girl. “I’ll be right back, if it please you, sir.” She again beat a hasty retreat toward the kitchen.
“It would please me more if you answered me! I need some directions.” He called out after her, but she only glanced at him furtively and put the dirty plates on the bar before scuttling away like the room was on fire.
“Bloody girl can’t seem to get hold of herself.” Eilyth was still watching the back of the room, her eyes narrowing. “No. Something is wrong, Joth.”
“Lady? You’re not well?”
“Not with me. Listen. It is quiet. No one works there.” She motioned with her chin the way the girl had gone.
Joth listened and heard only silence. His eyes fell on the dirty plates atop the bar. Why not carry those to the kitchen on your way, you mad girl? He wondered. Eilyth was right; there was something wrong, he knew it then too. “I’ll take a look out in the courtyard.”
He passed around the table and made his way toward the bank of windows that gave view of the courtyard and peered out cautiously from the corner. The gates to the inn had been shut and barred from the inside. There was some activity at the edge of Joth’s vision near the stables, but the barred gate told him all he needed to know. They had not been wanted at the inn to begin with, and now someone had decided to keep them from leaving.
“Wait here, lady. I’ll go round the back and try a few words with them.”
Eilyth looked unconvinced, but inclined her head at him slightly.
Joth moved through the chairs and tables of the great room and went behind the bar as the serving girl had done, finding a narrow half-opened door at the back. Pushing through it, he entered the kitchen and stopped short. There were several men speaking to the cooks and staff out the back of the kitchen, speaking in quiet tones. The men wore uniform livery, and Joth immediately assumed that they were town guardsmen, and they were in deep conversation with the lilac doublet clad innkeeper who was gesticulating and pointing to the inn and the stables and holding his hands out in supplication, and they were all nodding and making sounds of affirmation. It did not take long for Joth to realize that the purple-and-green-clothed man had called the town guard and sold them a story of aggression that warranted their involvement in tossing out the two savage undesirables from the establishment. He made his way back to Eilyth, who was standing and gripping her staff with both hands with her cloak wrapped about her in a way that he had never seen before. She had pulled his cloak down for him and cocked her head toward it as he met her eyes with his.
“Are you looking for a fight?” he asked.
“Never, but I will fight if need be.”
“There are a few guardsmen outside, and I’m sure they’ve been told we’re trouble.”
“What do we do?” Eilyth was calm, and Joth felt good about that. She had said she was a woman of peace, but the way she stood and her attitude matched that quality of soldier whom Joth had learned to respect. She was ready, and he knew that he could count on her to be with him—whatever his plan may be.
Hopefully there would not be a fight, hopefully they could gather their horses, pay the innkeep, and be on their way. “Just follow my lead, lady.”
Eilyth nodded. They walked to the front door and opened it, pale daylight flooding the dark foyer of the inn, and stepped out onto the steps that led down into the courtyard.
Blinking as their eyes adjusted, they were immediately engaged with two guardsmen who lowered spears at them and began shouting, “We’ve got them!” and “Here in the front!” Joth was beginning to speak as Eilyth spun her staff and took two steps and cracked both guardsmen in the temples and laid them out cold before the stone steps. Joth picked up a spear and drew one of the guardsman’s swords from the scabbard at his waist.
; “I hadn’t really planned for that,” he said.
“They threatened us, Joth Andries. Threats must be answered.”
“I thought you were a woman of peace?”
Eilyth smiled slightly. “The horses.”
They hurried toward the stables as they heard booted feet on the stones from behind the inn. The soldiers had heard their comrades’ request for help, and now they would have to deal with them. Joth ran to the gates that lay barred before them.
“Get the horses!” he shouted to Eilyth, pulling at the bar, tossing it down, and kicking open the doors. She ran toward the stables as two gangly guardsmen stepped out with their spears.
“Eilyth!” he cried, seeing her death before him.
She thrust out her staff before her and struck the first guardsman between the eyes, causing him to drop his spear as she stepped lithely past the staggering man, deflecting a spear thrust and clocking the second man with a blow that sent him sprawling. She then turned and dealt the man she had struck between the eyes such a blow to the back of the head that he simply fell over like a piece of timber.
“More come.” She said it so simply. Never would Joth have thought such a small, frail-looking girl to possess such skill at arms.
“You are doing well so far!” With the spear butt he whacked the sprawling guardsman solidly, causing him to still.
She smirked at him. Joth heard a shuffle behind him and turned in time to see four more guardsmen of Borsford round the corner of the inn and make their way hastily toward the stables. He hefted the spear and held the sword in his other hand, unsheathed. This was intimidating to fight so many at once. He wished that he were able to speak to them, to tell them that he was on Magistry business, to tell them that he had orders in his saddlebags that would explain everything. But Eilyth had preempted diplomacy with her skillful use of the quarterstaff that her father had given her at the beginning of their journey, and now four town guardsmen from the city of Borsford were laid out cold on the stones of an inn’s courtyard because two strangers dressed in the garb of the Dawn Tribe sought to have breakfast. Joth could only shake his head and let his thoughts swim. “We’ll have the whole town on us before long!”
Eilyth cocked her head toward the rushing guardsmen. Joth threw his spear at the foremost man and hit him in the face, bringing forth an explosion of blood as the spear glanced off his skull. The man went down and one man screamed and began to run away, but only one of the two who remained gave a second look and both of them drew their swords and circled in on Joth and Eilyth.
The loud cracks she delivered with her staff were like thunder. Joth heard it behind him as the man before him lunged and put a thrust at his face. Joth cut down his blade and turned the thrust, cracking the man in the head and putting him down in a bloody mess.
This was bad, and getting worse. He turned in time to see Eilyth stepping through and delivering a blow to the man that set him to silence. Joth saw the lilac Innkeeper run from the corner of the building and follow the fleeing guardsman toward the kitchen as he turned to Eilyth.
“He’ll be shouting like a house on fire!”
She nodded. “Let us fly from here now.”
Eilyth led the white horse, her gray mare Aila, and the dish-faced bay gelding with the mismatched eyes that he knew to belong to her brother Eilorn. Eilyth mounted the gray and ponied the white horse behind her. Joth swung onto the back of the bay horse and cut his eyes across the courtyard. There were no more guardsmen to be seen, but a noise drew his attention to the roof as a window in one of the dormers opened and the lilac doublet-wearing Innkeeper appeared with his hunting crossbow. He felt the air whoosh before his face and heard a loud crack as the spent quarrel shattered on the stones behind him.
“Ride, lady! Ride!” He kicked his horse up as the fancily dressed innkeeper worked at reloading his arbalest with a crannequin.
Eilyth whispered a word to Aila and she was galloping out of the inn gates, Joth a horse length behind. The horses clattered on the cobbles once out of the courtyard. Joth’s bay slid on the stones for a pace before finding its footing and then they were off like a shot down the street. He looked behind and saw the innkeeper taking aim with his crossbow, so he huddled low over the neck of his horse and screamed for Eilyth to get down, but she did not hear or she chose to ignore him. The bolt shattered and splintered against the stones of the building behind him and he urged his horse onward.
“Take that alleyway!” Joth shouted to Eilyth. Turning there would put a building between them and the inn, preventing them from being shot at by the dandified crossbowman. It was frightening to think of the consequences of being shot through with a quarrel or having one of their horses hit; or worse, if the fool murdered the Lady Eilyth. For what bloody reason had the man decided to fetch down his crossbow in the first place? They cleared the corner and Joth saw the innkeeper leaning out of the window in the second story marking their flight. What would the bloody fool be up to now, Joth wondered. He was a craven, but he had only needed a crossbow to become bold. Once they were out of bowshot, Joth slowed his horse to a trot and told Eilyth to do the same.
“We’ll draw too much attention to ourselves running roughshod through the streets,” he explained. “I think you were right to begin with.”
“Right?”
“About the clothes. I should have put on my Oestern garb, and we should find you a gown to blend in as well.”
She nodded. “What now?”
“Now we find the airship harbor and get out of here before those guardsmen raise the alarm.” Joth pointed ahead to where a broad street bisected the narrow alley and some people and carts passed. “This way, lady.”
With their cloaks on and Eilyth’s hair covered for the most part with hers, they could pass for Oestern travelers. They were moving fast enough to attract a little attention, but it registered in his head that it could not be helped under the circumstances. He cradled the bare-bladed arming sword in the crook of his arm and threw his cloak over it to hide its presence.
They checked their horses at the corner then turned out onto the broad cobbled street and into the foot traffic and carts as they climbed the low sloping hill that led to the heart of Borsford. Joth could see the old walls of the fortress that perched up atop the hill and thought that the airship harbor had to be somewhere inside the walls. Where else could it be, he wondered. Was it on the other side of the town? The airships at Immerdale would always set down in the fields outside of the fortress. He frowned. This was a hard place to be in, he hated that events had unfolded in the way that they had. They had done no wrong, they had simply wanted to have a meal and a fire before they continued on.
Perhaps he could have avoided the trouble with a few words, but Eilyth had been too quick with her father’s staff. She had taken those boys before Joth could even think twice, and he knew now that they would be dusting each other off and running for more help. It would be a mess once the town guard set out after them in force. Those bastards were probably bored out of their skulls before we showed up and now we’ve given them a cause for excitement, Joth thought.
He spat onto the cobbles. Joth had never liked town guardsmen. Boring bloody work, and it attracted the worst kind of soldier; in fact, most town guards were men who were either too old or otherwise unfit for active service within the army of the Magistry. Better than conscripts or levies, but not much better, and Joth always got the feeling that most guardsmen felt that they had something to prove. It was always something that seasoned soldiers could pick up on, something one could pick out in new recruits and old boasters alike.
He was looking over his shoulder to see if they were being followed when Eilyth spoke to him.
“Joth, the girl knows where we go.”
It dawned on him in an instant, he had asked the girl at the inn about the airships. “We will have to beat them to it, or we are caught for sure.”
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She nodded grimly.
“It’s not lost yet, lady. We have horses and they were all afoot. Let’s just keep our pace.”
“Do you know where these airships are?”
“No, I’m not certain.”
She nodded again, resignedly this time. “We will need to ask someone, then.”
Joth started to answer, but Eilyth was faster and turned to a young poorly dressed lad pushing a wheelbarrow on the street beside them and addressed him. “Where do the airships lay, boy?”
The boy blinked in the cool morning sun, squinting up at them. “North past the castle wall. Off the harbor road, lady.”
Bloody north, thought Joth. They would need to pass through the entire town to get there.
“There’s a good lad, thanks.”
As an afterthought he pitched the boy a silver, but as he did so the hilt of the sword he was concealing became visible and he saw the lad’s eyes go wide.
The boy dropped the wheelbarrow handles and caught the coin in both hands. “If they ask you, you never saw us. Remember.”
The boy looked at the two of them then and took note of Eilyth and their dress, but he just nodded and looked at the silver in his hand. Eilyth’s eyes flashed at Joth.