The young man did as he was bid. His mouth watered at the smell of the stew, and after taking a first small polite spoonful, he eagerly gulped down the rest. The captain and his wife shared a smile and tucked into their own meals at a steadier pace. “How is it?” the older man asked.
“Delicious,” replied the boy, scraping his spoon across the bottom of the wooden bowl to catch the last few drops. “What is it?”
“Lab skaas,” said the captain. “A Westcovian specialty; onions, carrots, potatoes and fish. Frey likes to add a little ale to warm you up. Eat up, it’ll put hairs on your chest.”
Without waiting for a second invitation, the young man hastily ladled another helping into his bowl. “Olyvar,” said the captain’s wife as he began to attack the stew with relish, “you haven’t even told me our young friend’s name.”
The captain shrugged. “I cannot tell you what I don’t know meself.”
“Cole,” said the young man in response, between mouthfuls.
“Is that your first name or your last, lad?” asked the captain.
“First.” The boy swallowed. “I haven’t a family name, or at least none that I know of. I’ve lived on the Crag since I was born.”
The captain grunted, pleased that his guess had proven correct. His wife smiled kindly. “Well met, Cole. I am Freyja, and my husband here is Olyvar, or Captain Brandt to those reprobates he calls a crew.”
“Freyja, captain, thank you for your hospitality,” said Cole quietly. “You’ve shown me more kindness than I had any right to expect.”
“They teach manners up at that old castle, at least,” Freyja replied. “But as far as I know, the priests there have never taken wives. How is it that you came to be born in that place?”
“Well, in actual fact, I wasn’t.” Having finally satisfied his hunger, Cole placed his spoon down in the wooden bowl. “But I have lived there all my life. I was a foundling,” he went on, seeing their puzzled expressions. “The Brothers raised me as they would any other young child that came to them, but I never took their vows. I was never told who my parents were, or where they came from.”
Freyja grimaced. “What a terrible thing, to give up a child.”
Captain Brandt watched his wife for a moment, but she did not look up to meet his gaze. “Whoever they were, they may not have had a choice,” he said at length. “Times are hard all over.” With that, he leaned back from the table and lit a small clay pipe. He puffed thoughtfully for a few moments. “So how was it that you came to be swimming out to sea in the middle of the night?”
His wife threw him a disapproving look but didn’t intervene, obviously interested in the boy’s answer.
“I fell,” Cole said simply.
The captain watched him patiently for a long time, exhaling grey clouds that quickly filled the air of the small kitchen. It became clear that no more was forthcoming. “You were lucky we came upon you when we did,” he said carefully.
“Lucky indeed,” Cole agreed. “If you had not seen me, I would have drowned, I have no doubt.”
The captain, an astute man, decided to put another guess to the test. “Some of your fellows were in town a day past, seeking passage to the Crag,” he said airily. “If you like, I can ask around and see when they will return, so you can rejoin them?”
The young man’s head snapped up, startled. “No... I will make my own arrangements,” he replied cautiously. “You have my thanks, however.”
Captain Brandt chuckled. “No need to worry, lad. I recognise a runaway when I see one. Your reasons are your own and we won’t pry any further. My nose tells me we’re better off not knowing, anyhow. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need, until you get back on your feet.”
Cole bowed his head in thanks. “I must leave soon, by tonight if I can. But perhaps I could rest a little before then?”
Freyja stood and gathered up the empty bowls. “As Olyvar offered, you can stay as long as you wish, Cole. He’ll show you to the back room. It isn’t a palace by any means, but you’re welcome to it.”
Cole followed the captain from the kitchen, to a room at the end of the hall. Freyja had not exaggerated. The room he was shown into was cramped and sparingly furnished, but kept fastidiously clean. He felt he could stretch out his arms and be able to touch both walls at once, and half the floor was occupied by a plain wooden cot. Small it may have been, but to Cole’s weary eyes it was perfection.
“Get some rest, lad,” the captain said, in a strangely subdued tone. “I’ll be getting some shut-eye meself. Freyja will be pottering around the place, but she won’t disturb you.” Cole bent his head in thanks, and the captain left, closing the door behind him. Cole heard his footsteps retreat back up the hall, and then a creak and click as another door was opened and shut.
Gingerly, he laid on the bed, his feet overhanging the foot and nearly brushing the wall opposite. It was no longer dawn, and daylight streamed in through a small window in the wall to his left. Despite his fatigue, sleep eluded him.
He rolled onto his side, and frowned. With his right hand he rummaged under the pillow, and withdrew a small, painted soldier. It carried a small sword and had silver armour. The paint had been chipped off in several places, revealing the wood underneath. It had clearly been well-used by its owner. Cole stared at it for a few moments, then slid it gently back beneath the pillow, feeling like an intruder.
He lay still for a long time, listening to the sound of sweeping coming from the kitchen. It was comforting, reminiscent of the sound of the waves from his cell back in the keep. He stared at the wall, but his eyes were focused on the past. Eventually, sleep found him.
* * *
Cole awoke some time later feeling somewhat rested, and the muted light coming from the window told him it was the early evening. There were voices outside, coming from the kitchen most likely. The captain and his wife. He strained to hear, but couldn’t make out what was being said.
When he wandered into the kitchen, Freyja was stirring a pot on the stove. The captain stood at the window, staring pensively at the side street outside. He smiled at the sight of Cole. “He rises at last,” he said. “Rest well?”
Cole slumped into one of the chairs by the table, rubbing one eye. “Very well, thank you captain,” he replied. “I didn’t realise how tired I was until I lay down. The events of yesterday caught up with me, I think.”
“You might be grateful for the rest, in the days ahead,” said the captain, glancing outside again.
“What do you mean?”
Captain Brandt lit another pipe and told Cole how, after waking first, he had ventured into the town. It seemed a ship from the Crag had only recently docked at the harbour, disgorging brown-robed Brothers, each bearing the sigil of the green star on their chest. A number were going from shop to workshop, talking earnestly to the townspeople.
“They barely even looked at an old seadog like me when I stepped into their path,” the captain said. The end of his pipe glowing orange as he sucked on the stem. “I made sure to pay them no heed either, and ‘stead I crossed over to the ‘Maid, though my heart was thumping like it wanted to burst through my ribs.” He gave an embarrassed laugh. “I’m not even sure why. They fair put the willies up me, though.”
“Olyvar likes to wear his superstition like a badge of honour,” said Freyja. “It’s naught but foolishness if you ask me.” Despite her words, there was fondness in her voice.
“Who is more foolish, the man who believes everything, or the man who believes nothing?” the captain shot back. “Only one of those is grateful to be proven right. Anyway,” he continued after a pause, “when I entered the ‘Maid, there was a group of them, talking to Einar at the bar. Leastwise, one of them was talking to the fat fool. ‘A’course I seen ‘im’ he was telling them. ‘They’re walking all up and down outside pokin’ their noses into everyone’s business’.” The captain shook his head sadly. “Poor Einar, born without the brains the Divine gave a sand louse.
> “The one he was talking to was about to say something more, when the one standing behind him raised a hand. The first stopped in his tracks, and stepped back, bowing so low I thought his head would sweep the rushes off the floor. This second one, I didn’t like the look of him at all. Eyes as green as jade, but cold as the bottom of the ocean. Around his neck was a big silver chain, with the biggest emerald I’ve ever seen.” Captain Brandt held up a clenched fist to demonstrate its size. “He smiled at Einar, the same as a fox gives the hens when he enters the coop. And that fool barkeep grinned straight back at him...”
The captain hesitated, grimly sucking on his pipe. “Frey, lass, it might be best if I talk to the lad alone for a while.”
His wife snorted. “If something has happened in town, I’d rather know about it than not,” she told him.
The captain nodded. “As you wish,” he said. “Well, the green-eyed one walked up to the bar, and reached out for Einar, who shrank back. It was then that I noticed, really noticed, the third one of them for the first time. The biggest man I’ve ever seen in my life. In the dim light of the ‘Maid I’d taken him for a wall. I nearly leapt out my skin when he moved. As Einar stepped back, the giant shot out an arm as thick as a bowsprit and grabbed him by the neck. The fat fool was dangling like a mudfish from a hook, and looked so shocked I damn near laughed out loud.” He chuckled, but his smile quickly faded. “What happened next weren’t so amusing.”
At the mention of the giant figure in the tavern, the colour drained from Cole’s face. The captain shot him a curious glance, but carried on with his story.
“Green Eyes reaches out again, and this time draws a chain from the neck of Einar’s shirt. ‘Ah’, he says, ‘I see you are of the faith. Dantes, release our friend’. The giant lowers him to the ground, and Einar grins and bows his head as if he’s got something to be grateful for. ‘We’re looking for a particular member of our Order’, Green Eyes goes on, ‘a young man, on his own. Perhaps you have seen him?’”
It was Freyja’s turn to glance questioningly towards Cole, but she too said nothing. “What happened next?” Cole asked, not at all convinced he wanted to know the answer.
“Einar said no, and even if you didn’t know him well, it’s pretty clear there’s no guile in that thick head of his. If he says something it’s most likely the truth or close to it, as he hasn’t the brains to dream up anything different. But Green Eyes shakes his head. ‘The poor boy is lost’, he says, ‘for his sake we must be sure’. Then he takes ahold of the stone around his neck, and damn me if it doesn’t start to glow, filling the ‘Maid with a sickly green light. ‘Show me what you have seen’, he says.” The captain paused his tale to take a swig from a tankard that sat at his elbow. “I start to think that maybe I should have walked straight back out before, just as Einar’s eyes roll back in their sockets. He groaned a little, but that was all. The pair of them stood like that for a minute or more, before Green Eyes suddenly lets go of his stone, and the room went dark again. Darker than before, even, it seemed to me. Einar faints onto the floor behind the bar, and Green Eyes turns to the other and says ‘he has not been here, not that this lackwit has seen at least. Have your men had any more success?’ The other tells him no, and with that they left the ‘Maid, Einar still passed dead away behind them.” There was silence in the kitchen as the captain paused to puff on his pipe once again. “That was that,” Captain Brandt finished. “I followed them out the door... at a fair distance, I’m ashamed to say. I saw Green Eyes climb into a carriage, grand enough to carry the emperor himself, and ride out of town. It was about that time I remembered to breathe.”
Cole slumped in his own seat as the captain finished his story. For a while he stared into the fire. The captain watched him quietly, breathing grey clouds. Freyja went to her husband and laid a hand on his shoulder, and in response he laid an arm around her waist.
“I think there is little point now in denying that it is me they seek,” Cole said at last with a grimace. “Thank you for keeping my presence here a secret.”
The captain waved aside his gratitude good-naturedly, while Freyja said “Maybe you should stay here tonight, Cole. There is witchcraft afoot.”
“That, or something else like it,” the captain agreed. “But to stay longer would be foolhardy, I think. The storm has passed, for now, and something tells me the mission the lad is on is an urgent one.”
Cole nodded gravely. “You’re right, I must leave. I have to get to the mountains, as soon as I can.” He sighed. “I’d hoped that perhaps the Archon would think me dead, but it seems he isn’t willing to give up so easily.”
The captain blinked. “The Archon? So that’s who was in the ‘Maid.” He frowned, his face suddenly dark. “Whatever is going on is bigger than I realised. You didn’t just run, did you Cole?”
Cole sat silently for a few moments. Then, in a quiet voice he said “I was chased. I’m sorry I did not tell you the truth before now. I was not sure if I could trust you, but I see now that I can.”
“You’ve nothing to apologise for, Cole,” said Freyja firmly. “You were right to be cautious. If you’ve any wits in that head, you’ll treat everyone you meet on the road the same.”
“Thank you, Freyja,” Cole replied. He took a deep breath. “The truth, then. I still don’t know exactly what happened last night, or why, but it seems that the group from the Order that you saw this afternoon slaughtered my Brothers on the Crag. I don’t know if any remain alive, but my fear is that none survived.” The captain and his wife both paled. “They might have killed me too, but I jumped into the sea before they could take me. You know the rest.”
Captain Brandt rose from his seat. “If that’s true, lad, then you mustn’t tarry another moment. I don’t know where you’re headed, and I don’t want to know, but we will help you get on your way.”
Cole nodded. “You’re right. The less you know, the better... and better still if after I am gone you forget that I was ever here.”
“How old are you, lad?” the captain asked suddenly.
Cole drew himself up. “I have seen seventeen summers, soon to be eighteen. I can take care of myself, if that’s what you’re asking.”
The captain smiled. “It wasn’t meant as an insult. But it doesn’t sit right with me, sending a young lad from my door with no more than the shirt on his back and the Order nipping at his heels.” He murmured something to his wife, and she hurried from the kitchen. “Wherever you’re going, lad, you’ll need help if you’re to get there,” he continued. “It’s a hard land out there, with many dangers that await the lone traveller.”
“A friend once told me the same,” Cole conceded. “If not for what happened at the tavern...”
Captain Brandt shook his head. “Don’t even think it. It’s true the Order is little loved in Westcove, and some may help you just because of that, but others might betray you for the same reason. The town will be riled up after what happened today, and after the questions the Brothers were asking, it wouldn’t be hard to guess you’re the one they’re looking for.”
Cole stood up. “Then it seems I have little choice, I must set out on my own.”
Just then, Freyja bustled back into the room carrying a stack of clothes and other objects. She set it all down on the table.
Captain Brandt moved to the table, and picked through the stack. “Clothes for you, some of my shirts, breeches, jerkin, a cloak to hide your face, boots. They will be a little loose on you, but at least you will seem to be just another sailor. And this,” he lifted up a leather sheath, and withdrew a wicked-looking blade. “Do you know how to use a knife?” he asked.
“The novices at the Crag are – were – schooled in many different weapons,” Cole replied. It wasn’t technically a lie, although he personally had only ever trained with staves.
“Good. Wear it on your belt like this.” The captain tied the leather sheath to Cole’s belt at the small of his back. “Oftentimes, the threat of a blade may be enough
to stop a fight before it’s begun. But I fear you will need to call on your training before too long.” He made a couple of small adjustments then, satisfied, he reached for a small pouch that still sat on the table. It clinked as he passed it to Cole.
“Captain Brandt, you don’t need to-” Cole began.
“Keep it,” the older man said hurriedly. “You’ll have need of it, I’m sure.”
Freyja had also set a cloth knapsack onto the table, so Cole packed the clothes and coins into it, and also a fresh loaf of bread she had laid out. Finally, he wrapped the cloak around his shoulders. It was made of thick wool, and he felt himself begin to sweat beneath it from the heat of the stove. “Thank you both,” he said when he was finished. “You have done so much for me, and I have nothing I can repay you with.”
“Just get safely to wherever you are going, Cole,” said Freyja. She folded her arms and looked at him with concern. “That’s all we ask.”
The captain accompanied him to the door. “If you take the east road, a few leagues out of town is an inn. Be on your guard, for there are many bandits and brigands on the road of late. Keep your wits about you, and hopefully you may find help within.”
Cole stepped into the street. “That will be a long journey on foot.”
“There’s a stable on the edge of town,” Captain Brandt told him. “The coin we’ve given you should be enough for a horse, to take you to where you’re going. I would go with you, but-”
“It’s ok, I should go alone,” Cole said quickly. “We might be seen together, and I wouldn’t want any harm to befall either of you because of me.”
The captain nodded solemnly. He held out a hand, and Cole clasped it. The captain’s grip was firm. “Good luck, lad,” he said. “And be careful. When I stood and watched them ride south, I didn’t see that big one among them.”
Dawn of the Dreamsmith (The Raven's Tale Book 1) Page 8