“Well?” Adelaide hissed. Clayton nodded and gave the sign to attack. All three jumped out into the open. The stuttering man was not to be feared. He was five foot-two and couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds. The one called Puck, was slightly taller and more built. His jaw was wired with some homemade dental contraption and both his hands were cupped to his nose with a stream of blood dripping down his clenched fingers. Both the men were dressed in white slacks and white robes. Their hair was greasy and unkempt. Each of their faces was clean-shaven, and their postures were absolute. Raoul was trapped in a headlock, courtesy of the stuttering man. His weapon lay on the ground beside him. At seeing Clayton, the man immediately released Raoul, throwing up his hands in surrender. Puck took one look at the armed trio and toppled backwards, his hands still clasping his nose in muffled agony.
The sight of two grown men sitting on the ground, their arms waving in the air and their faces livid with fear, was too much to bear. Finn started chuckling while Clayton and Adelaide tried to quell the massive smiles growing on their faces. Raoul, however, was far from humored. Picking himself up, he began fumbling around in search of his letter opener.
“I’m going to slice your rotting throats,” he hissed. “Now, now, Raoul,” Clayton said, grabbing his arm. “It was you that attacked them first, don’t forget that.”
“Yeah,” Adelaide laughed. “They don’t seem so dangerous to me.” “Oh, we aren’t mith, we aren’t ath all . Are we, Boras?” The stuttering man struggled to his feet.
“Oh n -no miss,” he began. “We’re as friendly as they c-ccome. Just a c-couple of hunters out in the woods t-t-trying to cccatch us some game.”
“Well then,” Clayton sighed, sheathing his sword as he helped up Puck. “I suppose we should introduce ourselves more peacefully then.”
“Oh sir, I assure you the mist -t-take is all our own. We are simple dwellers of these woods, and must be c-c-careful of anyone we do not know. I am Boras, and this fine fellow right over here is P--P-Puck. We are residents of the excellent town of P-p-p-p-p oh rot it all… ”
“Pinewood,” Puck finished. “We come from Pinewood.” “What is Pinewood?” Adelaide asked.
“Oh it’s an excellent place to b -bbe,” Boras laughed. By now the weapons had been sheathed and the two men seemed peculiarly at ease, given the very recent exchange of blows and rude comments. “We pride ourselves on our lumber skills. The mayor, you see, he has a p-p-plan, a masterful p-plan, and he will see t-t-t-t-to it that the plan goes ac-ccording to schedule.”
“Perhaths,” Puck said. “They should all meeth the mayor.” His companion beamed at the idea. He started ranting on about the perks of Pinewood as he headed into the woods. Puck stood there, extending his arm towards his friend’s retreating figure, encouraging the group to follow his friend.
Had Adelaide been less tired and hungry, she would have been discouraged from the idea of following complete strangers into the darkness. That being said, she was not alone in thinking that whoever these odd characters were, they both seemed pleasant enough. It was also likely that this town they had mentioned would have beds with fresh linens and hot food laid out on real plates with silverware. Perhaps a nice hot bath wasn’t completely out of the question, either. With this thought consuming their minds, the four fugitives decided to follow their newfound guides. They each kept their weapons ready, just to be safe, but both the hunters were too occupied praising Pinewood and all its glory to really notice.
A beach soon appeared in the distance. The sand seemed dark and coarse in the growing dusk. Stretching beyond it was a large body of water, green as pea soup, with thin wisps of mist rising up from the surface. A raft lay floating just off the shore, tied down to a rock sunk securely in the shallows of the lake.
“This,” Boras said, “is our way to P-PPinewood.” “Why can’t we ju st walk around?” Raoul asked, gazing uncomfortably at the liquid mass before them. “I can’t….I mean I don’t…I don’t like water.”
“Ah,” Puck chuckled. “W ell, if you fell like taking a chath in thath part of the foreth, you’d for sure be dead. For safethy issues, the mayor hath filled the woods with old mines and bear traps, to keep out dangerous people. He’s a smarth man, the mayor.”
Together, he and Boras untied the raft and bade the group to board it.
“T-T-Take your chances on this, or t-t-t-t-try your luck in the w-wwoods,” Boras warned them. Raoul looked to Finn, who looked to Adelaide, who looked to Clayton. Darkness had fully set in around them. A lantern containing a single lorb hung from a pole, illuminating the entire raft. Boras and Puck had already gotten on and were patiently awaiting the group’s decision.
“Alright,” Clayton finally said. “Let’s go to Pinewood.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The lake looked eerie as the raft moved along. An occasional bubble broke the surface, as if some underwater dweller was watching them out of the murky depths. This caused Adelaide to close her eyes and tightly clench Finn’s hand. It was just easier to ignore the water as they floated along into the growing mist.
The raft was wobbly and unpredictable. More than once, Raoul and Clayton were forced to move closer to the edges in order to balance it. Boras looked up at the group and smiled, as if he felt overly obligated to make them feel welcome. Puck kept poking his swollen jaw and cursing under his breath as he paddled along. There was nothing around them but mist and green water.
“You sure we’re heading in the right direction?” Finn finally asked.
Puck grunted and rolled his eyes. Boras started nodding his head vigorously.
“W-w-w-we are c-closer than you think; only a matter of secc-conds now.”
“What is Pinewood like?” Clayton inquired. “Ah,” Boras exclaimed. “It is a wonderful p-p-p-place. Full of t-t-t-terrific p-people that c-c-care about each other. We share all our food, we protect the weak and d-d-defenseless, and we d-dd-do our best to uphold all that is g-ggood and right.”
“Have either of you ever heard of Tibris Guards?” asked Adelaide.
A tiny splash was heard behind them, followed by one of Puck’s curses.
“Roth,” he groaned. “Dropth the thupid oar again.” Boras giggled. It was hard to ignore that he was enjoying all this a little too much. “Well be mor e c-c-ccareful then, my friend,” he told Puck before responding to Adelaide. “T-t-t-tTibris Guards……No, no, c-ccan’t say that I have. What are they?”
“Winking dips,” sta ted Clayton. “They’re led by a heartless son of Necryanamed Huglund. They’ve been ordered to massacre innocent people all around Sanctumsea on account of some investigation by Lord Tiberion, sitting all pomp on his throne in Reignfall.”
“G-g-goodness,” Boras exclaimed. “They sound extremely dddangerous.” “We were fortunate enough to escape with our lives before,” Clayton continued. “I figure they’ll walk around these woods a dozen times before giving up their search.”
“Oh rewally,” Puck jumped in. “How do woo figger that?” “ The Wallowing Woods are vast. Even a bunch of Tibris Guards can’t maneuver their way inside it without a map. So, we can resupply in your town, and head out before they have a chance to stop us. Then it’s just a matter of finding help to get north.”
“You all will be safe once yo u g-g-gget inside Pinewood,” Boras declared. “The mayor is not one t-t-to t-t-t-t-t-turn away innocent p-p-people.”
“I’ll believe that only w hen I see it for myself,” said Finn. “We haven’t exactly had a very pleasant experience the past few days.”
“Well,” Puck grunted, as he pointed ahead, “there ith your proof.” Out of the rising mist there appeared three faint glimmers of light. Below them were the faint outlines of long, flat structures standing just above the surface of the lake.
As the raft drew closer, three men could be seen holding lorbs. They were all hooded and cloaked in white.
“Those would be our d-d-dock k-k-kkeepers,” Boras said. “They p--p-protect us from
d-ddanger of all sorts.”
“Don’t the mines around the lake already take care of that?” inquired Adelaide.
“They d-d-do, but every town needs m-m-mm…oh rot it all. Every town needs muscle t-ttoo.”
“We very rarely hath visitors,” Puck informed them. “Your arrival will cause massith excitement.” As the group gradually made their way off the raft and onto the dock, a large cluster of people wearing white garments gathered before them. Boras and Puck did their best to hold off the growing numbers, but to no avail.
“Thank you,” cried a nearby mother of two. “Thank you for what you’re doing.”
“We will survive” an elderly man chimed. “They have saved us all.”
“Let me hug them! Please, let me through,” exclaimed a pretty maiden. Adelaide looked about and tried her best to smile. It was difficult to accept the thanks when she hardly knew what on earth they were talking about. Clayton was acting as humble as he could while Finn took every handshake and embrace as warmly as it was given. Raoul, being his usual self, struggled to avoid contact with the grateful hosts, even shoving them away as forcefully as he could.
“Quiet, everyone!” a loud voice exclaimed. “I said shut your gaps.” The crowd grew silent. All turned towards the speaker. He was a man in his late thirties, with a gruff complexion, including massive broad shoulders and sinewy forearms. He had dark, bushy eyebrows, a short, blunt nose, and a thin strip of beard running from his lower lip down to the bottom of his chin. Unlike the townsfolk, he wore a pressed grey business suit completed with a vest, a pocket watch and an aqua blue necktie. The crowd bowed their heads slightly as they saw him approaching the docks and made way to give him space.
“Now that you lot can finally breathe,” he be gan, addressing Adelaide. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Freud Blankis.I’m the right hand man and personal bodyguard to our great mayor of Pinewood. What’s your business here, tonight?”
Clayton cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Sir, my name is Clayton Hogg , recent resident of the village Havendale and proud member of its honorable Guild of Promise. These are my friends and companions: Adelaide Stokes, Finn Wessel, and Raoul King Jr. Together, we have eluded capture and certain death at the hands of a barbaric officer of the law and his murderous troop, who seek to execute innocents of all ages without a fair and public trial. We have come here, tonight, to beg sanctuary in the hope you can aid us in our escape and offer us protection.”
“We found them in the wooths tonight,” said Puck. “They told uth they were running from Tibrith Guards.” “Ah,” Freud exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “The notorious Tibris Guards. Aye, I’ve heard a thing or two about them.”
“You have?” asked Adelaide . It seemed odd that the first people they met outside of Havendale would be more informed on the subject.
Freud laughed. He had a creepy smile, which was difficult to hide. “Perhaps,” he said. “Y ou all would enjoy the details a little more while being fed with some of our excellent food. Maybe even some fresh clothes and a warm bath would appeal to you?”
“Well we certainly wouldn’t enjoy them less,” Clayton chuckled. “Excellent,” Freud declared. “Puck and Boras here will run ahead and inform the tavern to prepare four rooms, unless of course any of you lads and the young lady would prefer to share?”
.“Well…”started Finn, gazing lustfully at Adelaide. “I think four rooms will work out just fine,” Clayton cut him off.
“Maybe something to drink a little stronger than water or cider as well,” Raoul mumbled.
“Fresh clothes for me,” Adelaide sighed. Her dress was hardly visible under all the grass stains and patches of mud. “All in good time, I promise you,” Freud assured them. “But first, the mayor is quite adamant in meeting you all personally. We don’t often get visitors here, as I’m sure your guides have informed you. If anyone in Pinewood knows anything important about your Tibris Guards, it would be the mayor.”
Boras and Puck shuffled on ahead as Freud led the group into town. The townsfolk from the docks stayed close behind, wide smiles on their faces and quiet weeping arising from several of the women.
“We are an isolated community here,” stated Freud. “These forest dwellers aren’t very socially experienced with folks outside our little community. Give them time to adjust.”
The town of Pinewood was a pinnacle of art and true craftsmanship. Though built in the heart of the woods, the structures and materials were shockingly modern. Every building was made from stone and plaster, with complex wooden foundations stained in dark glaze that gave them all a richer shine. Every roof had fading green shingles that blended nicely with the surrounding wildlife. With all the modern designs and the number of structures standing in Pinewood, it seemed puzzling to Adelaide and the rest of the group that they had never heard even a rumor of it.
“We’re a lumber town,” Freud said. “As you can tell, business isn’t what it used to be. People started moving out to these parts back when Sanctumsea first rose from the depths and all those ships started crashing on the shore. The first settlers here figured the wood trade was going to make everyone a handsome fortune.”
“What happened?” Clayton asked. “The future happened . With the completion of Reignfall and lorb caches being discovered to the north, business all but died here.”
“That’s terrible,” Adelaide said. “But, this place….these buildings? How can you afford such modern repairs?” “The mayor,” replied Freud. “He’s been running this town for nearly a decade. He’s done a rotting fine job, too. We were practically in the dust when he happened along and got elected. Without him, we would have been starved out or run off by now.”
“And you say this mayor has knowledge of Captain Huglund and his Tibris Guards?” asked Clayton.
“I would assume so,” Freud laughed. “He’s a Red Hand, just like the four of you.”
This fact took all four of the group by surprise.
“So,” began Adelaide. “It’s been going on for quite a while now, this whole list of names and execution law?”
“About ten years would be my guess, but it has never been this bad,” Freud replied.
“How do you come and go from town?” Clayton asked. “Do you only use the raft?” “W e usually use the raft, unless a larger group of people have to leave in a hurry. In that case we use a series of maps drawn up a couple years back that navigate through the more dangerous parts of the woods, keeping us off the mines and away from any hidden explosives.”
“Why would people have to leave here in such a hurry?” asked Adelaide. “We’ve had a few incidents where people got winked from living in the woods too long and took off with limited supplies or small valuables. Just last week we had a fellow cross the mines without a map after snagging some important documents from the mayor’s office after one of his shifts. I imagine he thought they’d be worth something on the outside. Personally, I believe he spent most of his time working in the mayor’s office just to study those rotting maps in the first place. He was a cleaner; always dusting things off and sweeping up floors. Not too bright, if I recall. The fact he was able to keep employment was nothing short of the mayor’s unending kindness.”
“And?” asked Clayton Freud looked at him puzzled.
“What happened next,” piped in Adelaide. “Did you ever catch him?” “Oh , aye,” Freud said. “A search party caught him in the woods beyond and buried him there. No one takes from the Mayor of Pinewood and gets away with it. Never did find those documents though, probably buried them somewhere before making a break for it. Good thing he was only a cleaner, we might have ended up losing someone special.”
“That’s…that’s a horrible thing to say!” Adelaide exclaimed. “How could you say something so heartless?”
“Yeah, Augustine is right,” Finn declared. “Not a very friendly remark, Blankis.”
“I apologize,” Freud chuckled. “I can seem a little…heartless at times. It’
s just the way I am I suppose.”
With that he turned and gestured to the house before them. The group found themselves standing before a great, elegant structure. Red shingles covered the roof and black laced curtains draped the inside of the windows. The door was the color of custard and the walls were eggshell white. Freud casually walked to the door and knocked twice before stepping back. A thin, wheezy voice arose from inside.
“Enter.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A narrow corridor led the group into a large living room. The floor beneath them was made of stained oak, with a long, shagrug stretching across it. The walls were covered in various paintings depicting intense actions of hunting and outdoor sports. Against the walls stood rows and rows of neatly stocked books, numbering somewhere in the hundreds to thousands. Piles of illuminated lorbs cast light out from inside a giant fireplace hewn from marble and stone. To the right of it was an armchair, in which sat the huddled form of a wrinkled, old man. He wore the same pearly garb as his fellow townsfolk. A brown-beaded necklace hung down his neck and a crimson rope tied loosely around his waist. His face was sullen and dry in the flickering lorb light. His long, flowing hair was white as snow, with a hint of grey edged along the temple. As the group processed in, he lifted his head and proceeded to look over each of the four travelers, starting with Raoul, then Clayton, then Finn, finally resting his long gaze upon Adelaide.
“So,” their host began. His voice was unnerving, yet gentle, as he struggled to stand to greet them. “You are the newcomers I have heard so much about this evening. The town is practically giddy over your presence. Then again, I suppose with the way we live our lives in solitude here, a little company is precisely what we need from time to time. I am Oderheim, Mayor of Pinewood. Forgive my lack of speed; I fear anyone who knows me must learn the virtue of patience. I may be young inside, but alas, my body has outrun my spirit.”
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