Lorik (The Lorik Trilogy)

by Toby Neighbors

  “Not much,” Chancy admitted. “There’s a pretty large bog and then the path that leads to Lorik’s property.”

  Stone closed and latched the window. He knew the room would be stuffy, but he would sleep better knowing that no one could get into the room without him knowing it.

  “Is there anything else you need?” Chancy asked.

  “No,” Stone replied.

  “Well, then, I’ll see you in the morning. Breakfast is free to all my guests.”

  He left the room, and Stone locked the door behind him. It was a simple metal bolt, small but effective. He knew that no one could get into the room without him knowing. He pulled off his boots and took off his belt, then stretched out on the small bed. It was clean and soft, which was a pleasant change. He was used to sleeping outdoors, or in barns and sometimes abandoned homes. When he did stay at an inn, they were usually filthy, vermin-infested, and noisy. Chancy’s Inn was clean and quiet, and he felt safer than he had in years.

  He blew out the lamp and lay back on the soft bed, wondering if he would ever lie down to sleep without worrying that someone would try to rob or kill him in his sleep. He didn’t dream that night. It seemed as if he just closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them sunlight was streaking the sky with pink and gold.

  He sat up slowly, stretching and rolling his head on his shoulders. Then he washed his face in the basin and pulled on his boots. Once he had his belt on and his sheaths tied in place around his thighs, he left the room. Chancy was waiting with freshly baked bread in the common room. Despite the fact that he had obviously been up late in the night and had risen well before dawn to start baking bread, Chancy didn’t seem tired at all.

  “And how was your night? Restful I hope,” said Chancy.

  “It was,” Stone said. “I’d like to stay here, if things work out with Lorik. I know I’ll be gone a lot, but I’ll need a place to stay until I find a house of my own.”

  “Splendid,” said Chancy. “I’ll hold a room for you.”

  Stone paid with a gold coin, which wasn’t rare in Hassell Point, since many of the pirates and outlaws had stolen gold in their purses. Chancy rarely had gold, though, as most of his patrons were locals who came to the inn only for food. Chancy’s wife was a good cook, and he usually charged only a few coppers for a meal and mead.

  “This will cover your room and board for a month of stays,” said Chancy.

  “Good, I won’t need a full breakfast. Just a loaf of bread will do.”

  He got directions to Lorik’s property from the innkeeper and set out soon after. He munched the bread as he walked. It felt good to stretch his legs, and he enjoyed the thought that he was going to do something positive and productive. Much of his life had been spent in an effort to right the wrongs he had experienced in his childhood. Although he often thought of his deeds as beneficial, they were rarely positive. Now that was changing. He was looking forward to doing work he could feel good about.

  Lorik’s property was on a slight hill. There was a road that led from the town proper to Lorik’s property. Mud bogs lined the road, and it was obvious that Lorik had to work to maintain the road, which was just wide enough for his large wagons to stay out of the mud. The house was not large, but it was bigger than a cottage. The barn behind the home was much bigger, and there were horses in the small corral. Lorik was sitting in a chair on the home’s small porch, drinking a steaming cup of tea.

  “Good morning,” Stone said.

  “And well met,” said Lorik. “How was your stay at Chancy’s?”

  “I slept well,” Stone said.

  “Good, let’s get started then.”

  They walked out to the barn. It was well built with a large hayloft, stalls for a dozen animals, and room for three large wagons, as well as a work area for repairs. Stone saw that his own horse was occupying one of the stalls. From the looks of her, she’d had a nice rubdown and was currently enjoying a small feed bag of oats.

  “My father built this place,” Lorik said. “His father started delivering the rice tax, and the Earl of Yorick Shire gave him his first wagon. Before that, most of the farmers hauled their rice taxes out in hand carts.”

  “Through the marshes?” Stone asked.

  “Yes, in the winter months. The trip would usually take a month, and they often lost as much rice as they delivered. Now there are several good paths through the marshes, depending on the weather and where you need to go. If things work out you’ll learn all of them and how to tell what the marshes are doing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Most people don’t realize that the marshes migrate. There’s a lot of water under the ground, and when that water shifts or moves, so do the marshes above them. You’ll have to learn the difference between a bog, sucking mud, and quicksand. We’ve got it all in the marshes, along with some venomous snakes and toads. There’s also mud dragons—I suppose you’ve heard of them?”

  “Yes, I even saw a few on my way to Hassell Point.”

  “Well,” said Lorik as they approached the first wagon, “they generally don’t bother us. They’re territorial, though, and they will attack if they feel threatened. They’re fast, and their bite is so powerful it can take off your hand if you get too close.”

  “You make it seem so glamorous,” Stone said sarcastically.

  “It can be, once you know your business. But it isn’t easy work. I know a lot of people who think I just drive a wagon around. That’s only a small part of what I do. I load and unload cargo, care for the horses, keep up the maintenance on the wagons, and probably most importantly, I protect the goods I haul. I know the lay of the land beyond the marshes up to Yorick Shire pretty well, and the Earl does a good job of keeping outlaws at bay, but there are dangers to cargo besides thieves. Especially if your load is rice. Moisture can ruin rice, from rain to a little water splashed on the grain sacks as you cross a stream.”

  “Well, I’m a fast learner,” Stone said. “And I’m not afraid of hard work.”

  “Good, let’s get started. I’ve got two types of wagons. The first is called a marsh schooner. Have you ever heard of it?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Stone said as he slowly circled the wagon.

  “These two are marsh schooners. See how they angle up in the front and the back, just like a boat? In the marsh, you never know when the path might plunge your wagon into the water or into soft mud. With this design, we protect the cargo. It’s watertight and sealed on the inside, with space between the bottom of the wagon and the floor where the cargo is carried so that it can float. It also has these steel pins along the axle, so that if worse comes to worst, you can actually pull the pins and float the wagon off the chassis just like a boat.”

  “Who made these?” Stone asked.

  “My father designed them, and the Earl of Yorick Shire had them built. They work great though the marshes although they take a long time to build. The other kind of wagon is called a Mascogee wagon.”

  Lorik walked over to the other wagon. “It’s built for long hauls. I keep one here and one hidden on the far side of the marshlands so that if I have a long trip, I can swap the cargo over and make better time on the open road. In the driest summer months I sometimes take this wagon through the marshes. It has wooden axles, and the wheels are made of wood, too. If it’s really wet the axles can warp and have to be replaced, but the difference in weight is worth the risk sometimes. The Mascogee holds just as much cargo, but is much lighter than the marsh schooner.”

  “And that’s just a farm wagon,” Stone said, pointing to the small wagon in the back of the barn.”

  “That’s right. Let’s take a look at the horses.”

  They went out to the corral were there were six very large horses. Most of them were reaching through the wooden fence to nibble the grass that was growing on the other side.

  “Can you identify them?” Lorik asked, leaning on the fence.

  “They’re Shire horses,” Stone said. “Five mar
es and one stallion.”

  “Good, you do know your horses. The older two are broodmares now. I usually only take two horses out at a time. I have a boy in town who comes out to feed them when I’m away.”

  “What kind of harness do you use?”

  “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  They went back in the barn and looked at the harness and braces. Stone took his time looking at the tack, since he was less familiar with it than anything else.

  “So how do you see our partnership working?” Lorik asked.

  “I need to learn as much as possible, so I was thinking I would just ride with you. I’ll be your apprentice. I have a little gold set aside. I can buy my own horses when I’m ready for that.”

  “What about pay?” Lorik said. “I can always use the help, but the folks around here can’t afford for me to increase my rates. I was thinking you should keep your gold and when my mares give birth, you keep the horses. I’ll even help you train them. I’ve got an extra room in the house, too, where you could stay until you find a place of your own. Once you start running your own loads we’ll split the commission. How’s that sound?”

  “Do you think there’s enough business to keep us both busy once I’m ready to go out on my own?”

  “Sure, there’s always a need, whether it’s goods going out or goods coming in. The main crop in the marshland is rice. We can grow other things, but rice is our specialty. There are very few places in Ortis where it can grow. Most farmers get in two crops a year, and half has to be sent to Yorik Shire as taxes. Most teamsters merely haul cargo, but I usually sell the surplus rice at some of the smaller markets and trade for goods we don’t have. Timber is hard to come by in the marshlands. We have trees, but they’re usually short and crooked making them hard to mill.”

  “So you haul out rice, pay the tax, and sell the rest. Then buy goods for your clients and haul them back.”

  “Yes, and quite often I work on commission. I’ll take a percentage of their profits as my pay, rather than require money up front. Sometimes I work for trade, but not often. In the fall I usually make a haul or two just to bring back hay and oats for the horses. And sometimes I haul out trade goods from the craftsmen in town. It’s easier for them to let me haul it, since they don’t have enough to pay for freight on a ship.”

  “Enough goods?”

  “Goods or money usually.”

  “Have you ever lost a load?”

  “Only once,” Lorik said. “I ran into a bunch of outlaws. That isn’t altogether uncommon, but most are desperate men with no real idea of what they’re doing. They’re rarely mounted, and the first rule of hauling cargo is not to stop unless it’s absolutely necessary. A fully loaded wagon moving at speed is a force to be reckoned with, but if you stop you’re vulnerable. I was on a return trip with a load of freshly milled lumber. A group of outlaws tried to stop me, but I just kept moving. They shot crossbows at the horses. One missed, one didn’t. I was able to get away from the outlaws, but the horse went lame. I had to put her down and convert the harness to a single horse. We hit some sucking mud and the horse couldn’t pull the load out.

  “So I left the wagon and rode the horse back home and then took another team out to get the lumber, but when I got there everything was gone but the wagon. It was not my finest day, but there are a lot of folks living in the Marshlands who will take everything you have and leave you bleeding in the mud if you aren’t careful.”

  “There are people you don’t know?” Stone asked.

  “Sure, there are a lot of them. They know the swamps and marshes better than anyone. They live off the land and have very little contact with the outside world. Which also means they have very little regard for outsiders or the King’s law.”

  “That’s not a settling thought.”

  “Ah, they’re mostly nice people, just different. And a load of quality milled lumber left untended in the marshes could be seen as abandoned. But that’s the only load I’ve ever lost.”

  “So you don’t have much trouble with outlaws?”

  “Oh, sure, there’s been some trouble. Just nothing I couldn’t handle,” Lorik said. “I’ve found most outlaws to be cowards. What about you?”

  “I’ve known a few cowards and a few killers.”

  “Speaking of killers, how did Marsdyn take the news that you wouldn’t be joining his crew?”

  “What makes you think he wanted me to?”

  “I’ve known Marsdyn a while, and I’ve known his type my whole life. He’s a cruel man, but he has ambitions, and he knows he needs talented fighters to get what he wants. If he didn’t want you after your little performance in the Boggy Peat, he certainly wanted you after you fought the pirates.”

  “Well, he’s taking the Riders out raiding. I wouldn’t have done that even if I wanted to join his gang.”

  “That’s interesting. What prompted that, I wonder?”

  “The King’s marching to war,” Stone said. “Apparently, Marsdyn thinks that means he can do what he wants without any kind of consequences.”

  “And what about you?” Lorik asked, looking Stone in the eye. “The first time I saw you there was blood dripping from your knuckles.”

  “But not my knife,” said Stone. “I was attacked by two pirates in the street. I had to defend myself.”

  “Well, at some point I’m going to have know what really brought you to Hassell Point, but we’ll have plenty of time to discuss that on the trail. For now, you need a second pair of boots and provisions for a week, if you’re going to join me on my next cargo run.”

  “When are you leaving?” Stone asked.

  “This afternoon,” Lorik said. “I just need to see someone before I go.”

  “All right, I’ll get what I need. Do I need provisions for you, too?”

  “No, I’ll get my own food. I want you ride escort at first. Your horse up for that?”

  “She sure is,” Stone said. “But why escort?”

  “Two reasons: first, there may be more trouble on the road with the rumors of war going around. I want you to be able to run interference if that happens. Plus, I won’t have to worry about you adding extra weight to the load. We’re hauling rice, and it should be a big load.”

  “All right, where can I get boots fast?”

  “Try Alride’s shop, across from the market. You can’t miss it.”

  “Good, I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

  Chapter 7

  Lorik watched Stone ride away from the barn. He had been a little nervous that the younger man’s interest was just a ruse, but if Marsdyn was after Lorik he could have captured or killed him easily by now. Of course, if the outlaw wasn’t angry over losing his assassin to Lorik, he would certainly be over losing Stone. As a teamster, Stone seemed motivated and bright, but as a killer he was unparalleled. Lorik had seen his share of fights, both those he’d been involved in and as a bystander. He’d never seen anything like what Stone had done to the pirates. He moved like a vengeful spirit with absolutely no fear, and he possessed a combination of skill, strength, and speed the likes of which Lorik had never imagined.

  He knew he should have been nervous around Stone, but for some reason he wasn’t. Perhaps it was the respect the young warrior showed him, or maybe his enthusiasm for the job. Either way, he felt that their prospective partnership had a lot of potential.

  He went into the small house and gathered enough coin from his various hiding places to get the supplies he needed in town. Lorik rarely carried more than a few copper coins and one silver mark, but he needed to get a few more weapons before leaving the Point, as well as provisions for the journey.

  He walked to town, making his first stop at the Boggy Peat. He went inside and made his way back to Vera’s room. It was still early in the morning, but, since he was leaving, Lorik didn’t expect Vera to mind if he woke her up. He knocked gently on the door. It took a few moments, but eventually he heard Vera stirring inside. She opened the door just a crack, then s
tepped back and let Lorik in.

  “Did you get a chance to dig into Stone a little?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. She wasn’t sure what else to say. Over the years she had experienced her share of suitors, but she simply couldn’t get Liam out of her mind. She had replayed their conversation over and over in her head. With the gold crown he had paid her she had more than enough money to move on from Hassell Point, but now she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She had gone to work when her parents died out of necessity, but she had remained a wench for a reason she wasn’t sure of. She knew she had been searching for something, as if there was something missing from her life. It was why she had turned men away over the years, why she had refused to accept Lorik’s proposals. She had never thought that what she was waiting for was a man; in fact, she had very little respect for most men. Even her regular clients, who were almost entirely locals, seemed more like boys than men. Lorik was different, but he was the exception to the rule. Now, she couldn’t stop thinking about Liam. She could still feel his lips on hers, soft and warm, passionate but not possessive. He wanted her, she knew that, but he also respected her. It was a new feeling, and she wanted more than anything to see him again.

  “And...” Lorik said.

  “He’s okay,” she said at last. “I asked him about Marsdyn but he seemed to have no interest in the Riders. As hard as it is to believe, I think he wants to work with you.”

  Lorik nodded and sat down. He had the same feeling himself.

  “Did you spend much time with him?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “He’s different, isn’t he? Maybe it’s because he isn’t from the Point or maybe it’s just that he’s still optimistic, but I like him.”

  “I do, too,” she admitted. She was afraid to say what she was really thinking but more afraid not to. “I want to move into your house,” she told Lorik.

  He looked at her in surprise. “You’ve changed your mind about marriage, then?” he asked, and she heard a note of worry in his voice.

  “No,” she said, smiling at his fear. She knew he had offered to take her as his wife, but that wasn’t what he wanted. If she had ever doubted it she knew the truth now. “But I don’t want to stay here. I think it’s time for a change.”