Servants and Followers

by Courtney Bowen

  Oaka rolled his eyes as Basha said, “I suppose I hadn’t gotten close enough.”

  “It’s all right, Basha,” Fato looked up. “I suppose one day you would’ve gotten close enough to hear the sparrows speak.”

  After they’d agreed to let Fato join them, Oaka had walked off to bring back the horses from grazing. He’d wondered if Fato was telling the truth, if he really was a royal messenger bird, if he really did have such an important message. But he never did ask any of these important questions.

  He’d thought it was too soon, for one thing, and he didn’t want to keep arguing with Basha forever. They had to get going before night fall, because he didn’t want to spend any more time near the place where Sir Nickleby was killed. Especially if the Wolves came back, and…ate him at night.

  Oaka shuddered. He’d half a mind to go back home at this point, but he was worried about what Sisila, his parents, and the rest of the town might think if he abandoned Basha after Sir Nickleby was killed. Even if he told them about Fato, they probably wouldn’t excuse him, except for Sisila, of course.

  Plus, he was afraid of leaving Basha alone with this bird if there was something wrong with it, maybe dubious. He didn’t know what Fato was doing with Black Wolves chasing him. This was an odd situation, and he was determined not to underestimate the royal messenger bird.

  Plus, he didn’t want to pass by the place where Sir Nickleby was killed, and he didn’t want to face those Black Wolves by himself again if they were still there.

  The first night without the knight…they weren’t able to make the fifty-five miles necessary to reach Coe Anji before nightfall. Their route at first had been lined with small farmsteads when they were still close to Coe Baba, but after a while, those farmsteads had receded.

  At night, camping by the side of the road, especially without the knight around, smothered the young men in forest darkness. Shadows prowled, triggering them to swathe deep into their blankets as they tried to sleep. Meanwhile Fato snored high up in the tree, unafraid.

  “For a little bird, he sure can make a lot of noise.” Oaka muttered when he was on guard duty for the first few hours that night as they now watched for Black Wolves. Fears, however, were usually forgotten in daylight, and there was no sign of the Wolves.

  When the group got up the next morning, Oaka remarked to Basha, “I’d hoped to sleep in a warm bed last night.”

  “Oh, you really are pitiful!” Fato cackled, returning with a rabbit in his talons. “You can’t even stand to sleep on the ground! Now I see you both need my help!”

  “What makes you expert enough to insult us?” Oaka cried. “You’re just a bird! You probably live in a nest and don’t know anything but this forest!”

  Basha managed to control the tension between them, but at least Fato was a good hunter, that was one point in his favor, Oaka thought as he ate a bit of rabbit. Fato tore at the skull, and the other bits of rabbit that the humans didn’t want to eat, but the falcon didn’t seem to mind that so much.

  At last, they seemed to be getting close to Coe Anji, traveling amongst caravans of merchants all huddled close together to protect themselves from petty thieves and bandit gangs. Basha and Oaka started getting excited.

  “Coe Anji, the first town we’ve ever been to besides our own,” Basha smiled and sighed. “Sir Nickleby…”

  “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay,” Oaka reached over to pat Basha on the shoulder from horseback. “We’ll get through this.”

  Sir Nickleby had warned that Coe Anji was rougher than Coe Baba, but the scene upon entering the town still surprised Basha and Oaka. The core of this hamlet was elbow-to-elbow vendors and stalls. Pedestrians had to get out of the way of a herd of cattle, riders, and wagons.

  The buildings were all wood, not just clapboard siding with a smooth finish, but rough-shod as well with bark still clinging upon and engrained into them. The facades were painted to make the town seem festive, but the paint was peeling off and fading underneath the sunlight.

  The town seemed to be constructed haphazardly, with random ramshackle huts stacked on top of another to make the buildings two to even four stories tall! But these were narrow and precarious as well, with some buildings leaning over so much that they had to be braced with beams stuck into the ground and pitched against the walls.

  A rickety leaning city, Oaka thought. He hadn’t really noticed the additions that had been made to The Smiling Stallion inn and other buildings in his hometown over the centuries, but those looked much smoother compared to the ones in Coe Anji.

  In Coe Baba, people built with the intent to make something permanent, and fit in with the rest of the town’s facade, not appearing too new or old. But the buildings in Coe Anji appeared to be temporary construction solutions that had just turned permanent by accident, lashed and latched onto each other through faith and hope with a bit of rope and nails.

  And the buildings were so outnumbered by the expanse of tents pitched in and around the town that Coe Anji looked to be a temporary place, a market town for merchants to exchange and barter goods, services, and money. Oaka couldn’t imagine anybody living here on a permanent basis.

  Basha, however, seemed to be taken in by the facade, fascinated by the muddled, yet jovial atmosphere of Coe Anji’s market streets. Down several alleyways, however, there were venues of vicious sport and soiled pleasure, sometimes one and the same. Oaka was half aware of them as he turned his head and saw men, but very few women, coming in and out of the mouth of these alleyways, laughing, smiling, and joking about as they staggered.

  As they passed by a cart selling meats, Fato, perched on the pommel of Basha’s saddle again, smelled something that strongly attracted him. He pushed himself off of the pommel and spread his wings wide to start flapping.

  Basha had to let go of Talan’s reins for the moment, so that Fato would have space to move. The bird flapped his way up above the young man’s head and soared off when he had wind underneath his wings.

  Fato snagged a piece of veal from the cart, but was startled when a strange little beast, covered in fur yet walking upright, snapped at him and tried to reach out with tiny fingers to snatch at his feathers. The peddler pulling the cart yelled at the falcon, and the two young men the bird returned to when it’d dropped its piece of veal.

  Oaka had to go over and pay for the meat. As Oaka returned, Fato complained, “That monkey, I ought to…”

  “Fato, just be glad you got off with nothing more than a scratch,” Basha said.

  “You humans are related to monkeys!” Fato accused.

  “I would be glad to know that I was related to that wise fool of a beast, especially when he’d the good sense to shoo you away!” Oaka said as he mounted Joko. “I learn something new every day. Now where do we go?”

  “We should look for an inn,” Basha turned his head around. “I smell…what is that smell?”

  “Salt?” Oaka asked, smelling and tasting it in the air, too.

  “The ocean, we’re near it,” Fato said. “A couple of miles that way. The salty breeze is what you get when you’re close.”

  “The ocean.” Basha wistfully said, and then laughed. “We’re not in Coe Baba anymore!”

  “Definitely not,” Oaka pulled on Joko’s reins as they tried to ride through the crowd, but then the boys had to dismount and walk their horses.

  By studying some of the signposts hanging over buildings, Basha spotted the sign shaped like a duck, The Walking Duck Inn. It was a name no more unusual than some of the other inns they’d heard about, The Baron’s Bed, The Potato Hovel, and Tau’s Drink Inn, from some of the guests that had stayed at The Smiling Stallion inn in the past.

  Still, Fato kept snickering over the name as they directed their horses to the stables at the back. The boys unloaded their packs and handed over the reins to stable boys, a little uncertain about leaving their horses with complete strangers. But they trusted that the inn was a good one. They still had their swords strapped on, of course,
as Sir Nickleby had warned them.

  Fato alighted on Basha’s shoulder, and settled down, Basha cringing slightly as if the falcon’s talons might be sharp. Oaka shook his head, almost glad that the falcon seemed to be favoring Basha and staying away from him.

  As they headed towards the inn’s front door, they noticed that, apart from the noise of the crowd outside, they could hear a distinct reverberation coming from inside the inn. The front door opened, and suddenly a man was hurled out.

  The young men were barely able to leap back, out of the way of his falling glide, as the front door slammed shut. They watched as the man, who’d plopped onto the ground and rolled up into a ball, got up onto his hands and knees and crawled, coughing fluidly and vomiting.

  “The pentacle of monkey balnor,” Fato muttered.

  Oaka ignored the raptor. “This doesn’t seem to be a very good place to stay.”

  “Let’s just see what it’s like inside,” Basha tentatively said, as if he too would like to leave. “At least it might be better, and we don’t know what it’s like at the other inns. For all we know, this could be the best one.” He laughed hesitantly. “Come on,” He slowly headed for the front door.

  Oaka sighed, and went after him, as the resonance that they’d heard before became a clamor when they entered. The sounds were estranged into bellowing, screaming, thrashing, clapping, clanging, crashing, clinging, slapping, and snapping.

  The sounds shrank their ears, and their eyes widened at the scene, unable to focus on the panorama of chaos taking place. For the most part, it seemed the fighting took place between separate groups.

  Huddles of sparring combatants weaved about the common room, dodging tables to pursue opponents in devious styles. Some fellows doggedly stayed in their seats, drinking ale even as beaten men were heaved onto their tables.

  Oaka gasped, unable to believe…suddenly, he was snatched by a man’s hand, and dragged off into the melee, as Basha ducked a dagger flung at him.

  “Basha!” Oaka called. He was pulled tight into a hug, and the man started to dance with him, out into the middle of the floor.

  “Oh, we got it all...” The man drunkenly sang, as a glass of beer smashed behind him.

  Oaka managed to slip out of his embrace. “Excuse me,” Oaka tried to back up and find Basha, but someone standing on top of a table poured beer all over him instead.

  “‘Oh, we got it all…’” Another group sang and clapped their hands, “‘Right here in Coe Anji!’” They laughed amongst themselves, as Oaka gasped, stunned at how soaking wet he was, stinking of beer.

  Oaka sighed and decided to leave instead of looking for Basha. Let him fend for himself, it was his fault that they were here, so he headed towards the door.

  But then someone grabbed him and, before he could protest, started pummeling him against the back wall. Basha had a lot to answer for, Oaka thought as he shielded away from the blows and tried to reach his sword.

  * * * *

  When Basha ducked and the dagger thudded into the door behind him, Fato panicked and flogged Basha with his wings as he flew up into the rafters, remote from repercussions.

  “That bird is a menace,” Basha brushed himself off, and realized that Oaka had vanished.

  “Oaka!” Basha cried, pressing himself against the wall. There was no way he could find…he crept along the wall, scanning for any sign of Oaka, or nearby belligerents. He dived underneath a table.

  Basha had been worried for the past day and a half, like Oaka, only he’d tried to look forward to whatever lay ahead, instead of thinking about what had just passed. Poor Sir Nickleby…Basha shuddered, and tried to stay strong, thinking he wouldn’t lose Oaka now.

  From his vantage point, forced to breathe through his mouth and not look down at whatever was on the floor, he strained to look up past boots and the occasional bare feet. As one man sagged against the table, Basha wiggled out, unable to stand it anymore.

  Now crouching, Basha spotted Oaka at the other end of the room, getting a thrashing. Though he couldn’t clearly see Oaka’s assailant, small enough to be around their age, he winced when the person wrenched Oaka’s arm behind his back.

  He shouldn’t have insisted they come into this mess. But now it was too late, and they both had to get out.

  So he steeled himself, and tramped out into the mob. He bounded over a fallen man, swerved to miss a swinging bludgeon, and dashed round another table, topped by broken glass and ripped playing cards. Later, remembering how he’d grabbed and spun about Oaka’s attacker, he could’ve sworn he’d heard Fato cackling at him.

  For as he balled up his fist and contorted his arm back, his eyes widened at the realization that his other hand gripped the shoulder of a young woman with long, shimmering black hair, turbulently tossed about. Her creamy brown eyes laced with ferocity matched her tan, sunburned skin callused and scarred from years of hard travel.

  She was about ready to hit him in turn, bracing for his impact when he recognized her. “Monika?”

  “Basha?” She recalled after a moment’s confusion.

  She’d wondered how this roughneck about to hit her knew her. Then she saw his face clearer as his expression softened and he lowered his arm. The lovesick, mournful young man who’d made her feel welcomed and talked to her at that inn in Coe Baba a couple months ago.

  Oaka tried to reach for his sword again, but Basha waved him off. “What’re you doing here?” Basha cried at Monika.

  “Same to you!” Monika tugged herself out of his grip. “I thought you only stayed in Coe Baba.”

  She crossed her arms, and blew away the sable tresses from her face. She wished she could’ve washed up before she met him again.

  “That’s complicated, but you were beating up my brother!”

  Monika paused, and glanced down. “Oh, what’s his name?”

  “Oaka.” Oaka glared at both of them.

  “Sorry about that,” She said as Oaka slowly got up, still wary.

  “Did you get to see the Oracle?” Basha said.

  “What? I can’t hear you.” Monika yelled amidst the growing clamor.

  “Did you get to see…” Suddenly, someone slammed into Basha, and everything went dark for him.

  Chapter 4

  The Warehouse

  I see the problem here. She has left me to pick up the

  Million different pieces of my heart and soul, cut up

  And tossed onto the floor. What am I to do with myself?

  Just wait until she comes around again.

  ~ Love song, Mirandor

  “Basha!” Oaka cried when Basha was hit.

  Monika ran off after the assailant, disappearing into the crowd instead of staying. Oaka grumbled about her ‘disappearing act’ and rushed over to Basha’s side.

  He checked to see if his brother was all right, and found he was just unconscious, as Fato came down, also concerned.

  The innkeeper finally intervened, breaking up the brawl with a desperate and menacing ploy. Those few brawlers left standing were made to clean up the mess, and go see the constable.

  Oaka managed to convince the innkeeper he wasn’t involved, and he had to tend to his brother. He didn’t see what happened to Monika.

  Oaka had never seen a brawl like this. There’d been a few fights at The Smiling Stallion inn in the past. Maybe some pints had been thrown and beer was spilled, but their family had always been able to break up those brawls before they escalated.

  Apparently, this brawl started because of a card game the Zarien girl Monika had been involved in. Oaka huffed over the whole episode, carrying Basha upstairs with some help from the innkeeper of The Walking Duck.

  This whole thing wouldn’t have happened if Basha hadn’t gotten involved and this innkeeper had done a better job protecting and serving his guests.

  His father Geda would’ve…he stopped himself before he got to thinking of home too much. He wasn’t even two hundred miles away, yet he already missed it so much.

>   Never had he imagined he would miss his parents, too. Oaka shook his head, sitting by Basha’s bed. Sisila was the one he thought most of all about.

  He’d found and read her letter the first night out of Coe Baba, and he’d read it over again and again. ‘How I will long to be with you, night after night while you’re gone, to touch, kiss, and caress you again,’ Sisila had written, along with a couple pages more.

  He was dying to hear her voice again as he wanted to so much tell her what he was suffering without her. She was always sympathetic to his needs, and he comforted her in turn many times. Those first few nights he’d ached for her and wished that she could be lying in his arms again, warm and cozily tucked against one another.

  Here he and Basha were in placed a cramped room, much smaller than the ones in Coe Baba. The floorboards creaked too much. Oaka remembered his first impression of Coe Anji, a leaning town about ready to topple over with all of the buildings poorly constructed. He was almost afraid to walk across the floor, in case it might collapse beneath him.

  Fato, perched on a knob at the end of Basha’s bed, looked at the unconscious young man and then turned to Oaka. “So, um...how are you doing?”

  “Fine, thanks.” Oaka said, not really looking at the bird.

  Fato sighed, and turned back to Basha.

  “Urrum...” Basha started to wake up as Fato and Oaka leaned forward. “Ugh...I see...someone who should really thank me.”

  “For what?”

  “I got you out of that fight with Monika.”

  “Basha, you…”

  Fato laughed. “Boy, that girl sure was something! You couldn’t see yourself, Oaka, but it was quite an event for me! First off, right, I hear you yelling, then I see Basha running off through the crowd, off to rescue his brother in distress! You should’ve seen yourself. Honestly, I could’ve been malakeled at that moment when…gasp! It was a little girl who’d been beating you up all along! Oh, you were a quivering heap of nerves by the time Basha reached you! But she was just as calm as anything, even when she was caught in the act!”