by Lee LaCroix
As they traveled out of Boulderstone, Garreth and Ilsa continued to see people on their way back to the town, ready to begin their lives again. They admired their resilience and felt if these villagers could get on with their lives, then perhaps putting all this battle and conflict behind them was possible too. Before long, they made their way out of the rolling valleys of the Boulderstone area and back to the green pastures and divided forests that surrounded Amatharsus. Garreth was pleased to see the land he had called home once again, and he breathed in the cool fragrance of the plains and wafted the smell of pollen and greenery once more. He spied a herd of deer on the horizon, and suddenly the urge to hunt leapt into his chest again, which had been subdued by the conflicts of men. He would return to his calling before long, he told himself and stilled his anxious hands.
The northern watchtowers of Amatharsus stood shining above even the tallest the trees, leading any travelers to a safe port in the strongest of storms. Garreth watched as the flames leapt to life upon those lofty heights and watched the Crown Aegis do the same on the torches outside the Upper Quarter gate as they arrived. It was nearly sundown when Ilsa and Garreth arrived in the Upper Quarter, but the refined denizens showed no interest in turning in for the night quite yet. Between their painted gates, fences, and elaborate archways, the citizens of the Upper Quarter paced with a lack of urgency that was surreal but not unexpected for the two warriors. The two watched as the small groups moseyed along, lost in conversation, storytelling, and debate, fiddling with their immaculate headdresses and twirling their sun umbrellas.
“It really doesn’t seem like much has changed. Am I dreaming? Am I sleeping? Did the battle really happen?” Garreth asked.
Ilsa gave Garreth a quizzical look, raised his hand in hers, and then kissed it.
“We fought so these people would not change. These are the lives that we strive to keep the same. It is the sacrifice we have made. To endure the horrors of combat, to change ourselves through conflict, so that the free may have a normal existence,” Ilsa lectured as they walked the western street.
“I suppose you’re right, like always,” Garreth mumbled and rolled his eyes.
“Of course I’m right,” Ilsa teased as she nudged him in the ribs.
She sprang away from him and skipped through the intersection, stopping at the door of the building on the northwestern corner before letting herself inside. Garreth looked up to the five story building from the street; it was definitely one of the taller on the block, he surmised.
“Welcome back, Miss Vemsdower, Master Garreth,” a waiting man welcomed from the lobby of the building as Garreth entered.
“Thank you, Maxus,” Ilsa offered as she skipped through the furnished waiting room, over the varnished oak floors, and up onto the stairway that led to the rooms.
Garreth paced after her, watching her feet disappear around each corner until they made their way to the fifth and final floor. Garreth emerged on the landing and saw Ilsa down the hall where she inserted the key into the lock and let herself inside. Ilsa was opening the curtains when Garreth arrived in the room, letting in a small sliver of the golden red rays of sundown into their apartment. To Ilsa, this was not enough light for the entirety of the apartment, and so she paced around, lighting two lamps.
“This is how the other half lives?” Garreth chuckled as he placed the pack down on one of the chairs that featured a green leather tightened across a padded frame with studs of gold colour.
“This is how you live, Master Garreth,” Ilsa replied in a sultry manner.
“Me? Here? With you? I’m not too sure,” Garreth stated, rolling his eyes.
“Can you expect to live with your son in that tiny apartment anymore… now that he’s taken a lover,” Ilsa explained, delicately choosing her words.
“I… uhh… ehh… I suppose you’re right,” Garreth replied with a smirk.
“Right! Good! So settle in. I’ll make us something to eat!” Ilsa explained with a smile, pacing to the kitchen.
The apartment was nearly as wide as half the floor itself, the other half shared by the other room across the hall. From the entrance, the kitchen lay immediately to the left, and the spacious common room was in the center. To the right, a hallway led to the bedrooms and bathroom. The kitchen had a place for fire and a vent for the smoke, which could be used to boil a pot or cook on a grill. Beside the counters was a basin for water, and across from it, an island for seating and dining.
“You know how to cook?” Garreth mused with a dry chuckle.
“Ummm, kind of? I might need your help,” Ilsa replied with hesitation and then smiled.
“Alright. You let me know,” Garreth said as he dropped into one of the chairs near the window that featured the widest panels of glass he had ever seen; only second to the great panes on the Royal Palace.
He looked down. From their apartment on the very corner of the intersection, he could see south down the street all the way to the Trade District and east all the way to the city gate. It was a much better view from the small window above the Salty Dog, and he knew immediately he would find great comfort in his peaceful watch from here.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Garreth awoke the next morning as a small sliver of light passed over his left eye, and during its gradual travel across the room, managed to wake him. He opened his eyes to a dark room and sat up in the two person bed, placing his back against the headboard. With the heavy drapes spread across each window, Garreth had no indication of the time. He only knew that the sun was up and time was wasting. Garreth walked over to the wide windows of the apartment that faced the south and opened them, and the coils of the curtains jingled as he let the sun in.
“Aaaagh,” Ilsa murmured as she hid under Garreth’s pillows. “What are you doing? Close the windows!”
“Fine, fine. But I must be going,” Garreth called from the windows, shutting in the darkness.
“Fine,” she replied before she fell back into sleep.
Garreth went into the closet to take out his clothes he had hung the night before, but they were nowhere to be found. Instead, hanging where they once were, were a deep brown buttoned shirt and a matching pair of straight-legged pants. They seemed to be well made but did not seem gaudy or flashy as other exorbitant clothing of the Upper Quarter. There was also a similar brown overcoat that fell to a length between his hips and his knees and hugged his waist and chest snugly but not too tight. The overcoat was stylized with deep green panels that ran down the back and arms and along the buttonholes. On the shoulder, there was an insignia—the same that had flown upon the banner of the Crown Army division— an eagle over a brilliant green tree. Garreth looked towards the bed and the sleeping figure. She had been busy last night, he thought. He had wondered how she had snuck by him in the night, but he knew she had her ways. He dressed into his clothing, which retained a gentle aroma of pine, and found a matching pair of new leather boots where the pants hung as well. He shrugged, donned them, and did his best to pace out of the room without a sound despite their unfamiliar weight.
“Good morning, Master Garreth. May your day be as fair as the weather,” Maxus called out from behind the desk as Garreth strolled across the lobby.
“To you as well, Maxus. To you as well,” Garreth replied without turning around and waved as he walked out the door.
It was still fairly quiet in the Upper Quarter when Garreth took to the streets. Not many of the denizens were plagued with a sense of the work day’s urgency. He found himself appreciating the new clothing must more than he expected, for the coat cut through the wind much better than he expected, and the pants were much more insulating than he assumed, but the boots could still use some working in. Garreth stopped at a roadside planter and was directed towards a sign advertising the product as the last of the season. A gathering of lilacs and lavender drew Garreth in for a whiff, and he was met with a fragrant smell even before he buried his nose in it. As he walked away, the memories of the Kingswood
followed with him, but he outpaced them and made his way into the Trade District.
There was nothing out of the ordinary in the Trade District that day, and that’s how he liked it; the fervent hustle and bustle of business, the happy customer and the friendly merchant with voices raised not in anger but in excitement. There was prosperity through honest labour, fairness, and cooperation. He made his way without event to the Lower Quarter and came across a bunch of children playing stones outside the iron gate to the courtyard. As he passed, one child sent his stone too much power and too much spin, and it echoed against the metal door. The viewing slat slammed open, and a narrowed set of eyes with furrowed eyebrows appeared.
“Hey you kids! I told you not to play here! Bugger off before I open this door and getcha!” the man threatened.
The children gathered there stones and sped off giggling, not stopping to pick up the ones that spilled from their grip. The eyes scanned the area and fell on Garreth, who had stopped briefly to watch the exchange.
“Ah, master Garreth! I hardly recognized you without your field gear. You’re looking well today. It is good to see you!” the doorman called out from behind the slat, the scowling countenance turning affable and cheery.
“To you as well!” Garreth waved before continuing on his way to the intersection.
Tummas gave him a hearty wave as Garreth entered the Salty Dog and gave a look through, and Garreth gave him a quick nod before heading up the stairs. When he arrived in the room, he heard the sounds of movement from the living area and casually paced down the hallway to inspect the sounds.
“Hello, Father,” Novas welcomed with a small wave.
“Welcome back, Garreth,” Kayten added and placed down the candle she was holding and moved to hug Garreth.
“Hello, you two. You look busy,” Garreth mentioned as he looked around the room and noticed the open wooden crates sat upon the chairs, filling up with their possessions.
“Yes, indeed. I suppose we are,” Novas replied.
The living area was almost completely clear of all their belongings. The candles had been put away, the tapestry had been taken down and folded, their weapons and armour had been wrapped and stored. Only Garreth’s store of herbs, mortar, and pestle remained on the end table nearest to the chairs. Garreth had not checked, but Kayten and Novas’ possessions were also removed from their rooms, and only Garreth’s things remained there as well.
“We’re heading back to the cabin today. Kayten is excited to see it, and we could both use a long break from this busy city,” Novas explained as he continued to sort one of the crates, placing scraps of cloth between the valuables.
“Ah, I can understand that completely. I miss the wild and the hunt very much,” Garreth explained.
“You won’t stay here alone will you? I know you have gone missing some nights with Ilsa, I’d imagine,” Kayten questioned.
“No no. I’ll probably be gone from here before long too, Ilsa will probably want me to stay with her in the Upper Quarter for the time being,” Garreth explained.
“Good. As long as you are wanted,” Kayten replied with a smile.
Garreth nodded but found himself with little left to say. He looked into the hallway and saw Kayten and Novas’ packs stuffed and ready for travel. Into the rooms, he saw little left but his things. He looked back to his son and Kayten, who had nearly finished the rest of their packing. It had seemed everything had changed for Garreth. He had been with his son for years now. And here Novas was, ready to leave his side in the escort of another person. Another person who loved him. For so long he had identified as a father, but would he remain one even after his son was gone? They sensed his eyes upon him, and Garreth sensed it as well. There was an awkward silence that filled the air like a thick smoke.
“Well, I… really must be going then. It was nice to see you before you left. Hope to see you soon,” Garreth spoke and turned to make his escape for the door.
Kayten grabbed for his sleeve, held him in place, and dragged him back into the doorway.
“You know, it was really nice living here with you. With being in the city for the first time, experiencing it like I did, finding shelter here from the rain, the wind, the cold, and the Blackwoods. It wouldn’t have been the same without you, Garreth, and I wouldn’t be the person I am today if you hadn’t of come along,” Kayten explained before pulling close to Garreth and giving him a heartfelt hug, resting her head in his chest.
Garreth nodded and patted Kayten’s head.
“You take care of her for me, won’t you, son?” Garreth asked Novas.
Novas nodded and produced a smile.
“And you take care of my son while I’m gone,” Garreth told Kayten, looking into her eyes
She nodded and held him at arm’s length.
“Alright, I really have to be going now. Until next time,” Garreth explained with a wave.
“Goodbye!” Kayten and Novas both echoed.
They stood watching the doorway until the door to the hallway shut firmly and listened as Garreth’s footsteps faded away to nothing.
“I’m going to miss him,” Novas whispered.
“Me too,” Kayten replied as she took Novas’ hand and looked him in the eyes.
Kayten and Novas finished the rest of their packing and drove the bolts into the top of their crates, sealing the contents within. They picked up the crates, placed them in the hall, and took one last look at the common room. Even with all their possessions gone, they could still see their pasts there in a blink of an eye. Kayten could see Novas sitting at his favorite spot near the window, and Novas could see Kayten strolling away from the Salty Dog after that passionate night. They picked up their crates, shouldered their packs, and headed towards the door, but they stopped outside the doorway to Kayten’s room and looked upon it one last time. Novas smiled and nudged his head against Kayten’s, and they made their way out of the apartment. They wandered into the Salty Dog, and Novas set his crate down next to the bar and fished the keys out of his back pocket.
“Well, this is us,” Novas explained as the passed the key to Tummas over the bar.
Tummas swallowed deep, eyes fluttering, and then took the keys off the table.
“Well, it was nice having you. There’s always a room at the Salty Dog for the likes of you two,” Tummas announced and then took a deep swig of mead.
Kayten giggled and gave a little bow, and Novas picked up his crate, and they made their way out of the tavern. It was another bright day with a clear sky of blue and a slight chill to the wind, and Novas wondered when the cold snap would finally begin. He hoped it would not be too soon though, for he wished to prepare the cabin properly. They made their way past an old crone who was humming gently and sweeping at the leaves and a pair of fisherman who jested to themselves. Before long, Novas and Kayten had left the southern city gates and were sitting in the back row of a carriage that had recently departed, heading down the Great South Road. Novas looked back towards the gate and then up to the towers, and Kayten turned to look back with him.
“We’ll see them again before long,” Kayten offered him, noticing a certain look in his eye.
“Not too soon, I hope,” Novas said with a smirk as he turned around and put his arm over Kayten’s shoulder.
As the carriage rolled into the Southbriar Crossroads, Kayten tugged on Novas’ shoulder.
“I’d like to stop to get something from the smithy. Do you think the driver will let us stop?” Kayten asked him.
Novas consulted the driver, and he was willing to pull over for a few moments to stretch his legs and to let his horses drink. Kayten reached into her pack, pulled out the key to the smithy, and made her way to the closed up shop.
“I’ll just be a minute!” Kayten explained as she disappeared inside.
Novas could hear a tune wafting from the door of the Broken Kettle and the varying pitch of bawdy conversation and laughter therein. The shadows, silhouettes from lively patrons in front of the fir
e, danced upon the foggy window. He remembered those curious sounds. Then striking him like a symphony of bird song, it seemed to draw him back into the past. He looked to the upper window and could see himself sitting there, looking down, drawn bow in hand, and seeing Kayten for the first time. He could remember, even in her distress, he found her lovely then even if he did not want to admit it.
“Alright, I’ve got it all,” Kayten called out as she swung her pack around her shoulder.
After she locked the door, she climbed into the carriage after Novas, and they both waited for the driver to return from the merchants nearby.
“The crossroads are looking better than I’ve seen them in a long time,” Kayten stated, looking towards the intersection and the selection of merchants that were far from idle.
“I’m glad you think so. And to think, you were a part of what made this happen,” Novas said.
“We were, Novas. We were,” Kayten reminded him.
A moment later, the driver returned with a sack of goods, placed them into the seat beside him, and then whipped the horses into motion. Kayten watched as the watchtower faded in the distance and turned back to gaze at the road ahead, venturing south into a land she had never seen before. Novas had nearly missed their stop, for the nearly demolished home no longer stood. In fact, all traces of it, save the upturned dirt where the house once stood, were now cleared away. Standing two plots away, there was a newly constructed cabin with wood golden brown from recent splitting and shingles still dark and shiny.