by Sharon Gibbs
Further along the buildings were closer together. They rose upwards to form the main structure of the town and their dark windows seemed to watch the street as the three lads passed by. These buildings were quiet as the day’s work had come to an end, and the families who worked there during the daylight hours had gathered in their small houses that attached to the rear of their workshops.
As they reached the end of the road they turned left and continued along until the road ended. Before them in the darkness was the market square, its cobblestones gleamed in the moonlight. Their boots echoed in the silence as they walked across the stones towards the tavern on the far side. Light flickered in the tavern’s windows and beckoned them to the warmth and comfort of its interior. As they passed the bell tower they heard a voice call out.
‘And where be you three off to tonight?’
The soldier, who patrolled the town, had stood in the shadows and watched them as they walked across the square. He was an older man, no longer able to fight within the core of Arnak’s army, and had been reassigned to wander the town at night. His job was to report to Silas any unusual activity.
They stopped and faced the soldier.
‘Who are you to ask us where we’re going?’ were the first words out of Christopher’s mouth and his feeling of dread returned and he cursed himself for being so rash with his response.
‘Smart are ya!’ the soldier said and straightened himself to his full height as he walked towards the three young men. ‘I know most folk around here, and I can’t say I’ve ever seen you three before.’
Christopher changed his tactics and his tone. ‘We’re brothers who’ve travelled here to look for work and were headed to the tavern to stay for the night.’
‘What kind of work might you lads be looking for?’
‘Splitting or cutting trees,’ Peter said. ‘Do you know of anyone who might be in need of any help around here?’
The old soldier looked at Peter and James before his gazed returned to Christopher.
‘Try the Harkers down the end of this road,’ he said as he pointed to the road that led past the tavern. ‘His son is sick and he may have use for you. Now off with you three before I call the rest of the guards. Don’t let me find you out again tonight.’ The old soldier turned and went back to his rounds of the town.
They walked to the tavern and climbed up the wooden stairs onto the portico.
‘Right lads,’ Christopher said. ‘Listen for any information about the goings on in this town without drawing attention to yourselves. We’ll only stay for a short while and then we’ll scout the set up of the town before we meet up with Henry.’
Inside the tavern they opted for a table near the door. Christopher left Peter and James to order some ale while the brothers sat at the table. While Christopher waited for service he observed the occupants in the room. The tavern was much like any other tavern he’d been to. There was a fire in the hearth and sets of tables and chairs were neatly placed for patrons to sit at. Several soldiers crowded near the fire and two others stood not far from him waiting at the counter to be served. The soldiers near the fire cared not who heard them as they told tales and roared with laughter. One of them called out to the large fellow at the bar to hurry up with the drinks and the soldier at the bar slapped the counter and called for service.
Only a few people from the town were in the tavern that night and they sat at the tables away from the loud and obtrusive noise the soldiers made. Christopher noticed how they talked in low voices and kept to themselves. The scene before Christopher was no different than in the taverns back home and he understood why these men sat away from the ruckus.
The soldiers by the fire roared in triumph as the tavern owner walked up to the two at the counter.
‘Well, Gov, it’ll be another round for the boys,’ Emmet said as he slapped his hand on the counter again. He was a large man still dressed in his uniform, as were the others he’d come into the tavern with that night. They didn’t bathe often and the stale smell of sweat wafted over the counter to where Barret, the owner of the tavern, stood. Barret was annoyed with Emmet as he ran up his bill at the tavern and offered meagre payment when he received his allowance of coin.
‘You already owe more coin than last month,’ Barret said.
‘Ya know I always pay when me coin comes in. Now get me boys a drink,’ he said as he leant on the counter to intimidate the owner. Emmet could be quite nasty if things didn’t go his way.
‘Well you’ll have to pay more than last month,’ Barret said as he filled the mugs.
Emmet hadn’t liked the way Barret had spoken to him in front of his friends. ‘And you can keep that froth down to a minimum,’ he said. ‘I aint paying for no fluff on the top.’ After the first mug was filled, Emmet picked it up and drank from it as he continued his conversation with the others by the fire. Barret reluctantly refilled the mugs and marked the price on Emmet’s bill.
‘What can I get you, lad?’ Barret said as he walked over to Christopher.
‘Just three mugs of ale, thanks.’
Barret glanced over at Peter and James. ‘Where you lads from?’
‘Down south,’
‘And what are you doing up here then?’
‘Just passing through to look for work. Do you know of any around these parts?’
Emmet had listened to their conversation as he drank from his mug. ‘So tis work that brings you here,’ Emmet said as he swilled down the last of his brew. ‘Do you know about horses then, boy?’ Emmet didn’t wait for an answer. ‘You could try your luck up at the manor. There’s always work up at the stables for someone like you,’ he said as he reached for another brew.
‘I’ve worked with horses before and trained them,’ Christopher said.
‘No. None of that,’ Emmet said as he held back a chuckle. ‘No, this be more up your line.’
‘Doing what?’ Christopher suspected he was to become the target of Emmet's sarcastic humour.
‘Ooh yeah! I can see you now, all high and mighty as you plough through the mud and shovel all that horse shit! Yes, that be the job for you, boy!’ Emmet said and then roared with laughter. He picked up the drinks from the counter and sauntered back over to the fire to join the others.
‘Pay him no mind, lad,’ Barret said as he poured three mugs of ale for Christopher and his friends. ‘And I wouldn’t bother going up to the manor to look for work. If you know what’s good for you, lad, you’ll stay far away from there.’
‘Why? Who lives at the manor?’
Barret stared at Christopher with amazement before he said, ‘The soldiers now occupy the manor. Have done for the last twenty years.’
‘Where did the people who lived there before go?’
‘The old Chancellor wouldn’t yield and was beheaded when the new Lord came with his army. Others were killed or taken prisoner. Some folk still work up there, but others have since left to find new homes away from the violence that took place long ago.’ He took Christopher’s coin and walked off to clean the counter.
Christopher carried the mugs back to the table where Peter and James sat. They talked amongst themselves while they watched the happenings in the tavern.
While they had waited for Christopher, Peter had overheard a conversation between a few of the soldiers. He wasn’t sure what it was about, only that something would happen on Sunday because the Captain had arrived last week to oversee the procession. Peter told Christopher and his brother of the conversation. They too had no idea and continued to listen to see if they could find out any thing else.
After they’d finished their ale and learnt nothing else of any interest they left to explore the town. Slipping out of the tavern and into the shadows they searched for the guard before they headed up the road next to the tavern.
Henry had entered the town and turned down a familiar road. He searched for the house where he and his family had visited Clarence and his friends many years ago. As he walked up to the front door,
he noticed light from a small candle in the window. He rapped on the door and waited for it to be answered. From inside the scuffle of feet could be heard as someone approached the front door. A small girl who looked to be about ten opened the door as an older man Henry had never seen before towered over her.
‘Yes,’ the man said to Henry as he stood on the small portico outside.
‘Good evening, sir. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’m looking for Ardrich, who used to live here some years ago. Would he or any of his family happen to still live here?’
‘Sorry, no. This house was abandoned when we moved here from up north. We’ve been here near on fifteen years and I can’t say what happened to the previous folk. Sorry,’ he said and closed the door. Henry’s heart sank as he wondered what had become of Ardrich and his wife, Mia. Just as Henry turned to walk back down the steps the door reopened.
‘I hear there aren’t many left that still live here from long ago, but you could try the butcher’s stall in the market tomorrow. Old Hank is still around and he may know what happened to them.’
‘Thank you. I’ll see him tomorrow,’ Henry said. A small glimmer of hope sparked within him. He still had two more houses to visit that night and hoped someone might still live in Canameer that he knew.
The moon had risen to its apex and Henry waited within the shadow of the bell tower. As he looked into the shadows to search for any sign of the others time seemed to stand still. A breeze blew across the market square and caught the canvases that hung over the stalls. As it lifted them, their chains clanged in the brackets where they had been fastened.
‘Grandfather,’ Christopher said.
‘By jingo, you scared the life out of me, lad,’ Henry said as his heart pounded in his chest. He’d peered into the shadows in search of them and hadn’t heard the three of them approach.
‘Come, let’s be on our way back to camp before the night’s watch arrives,’ Peter said. He didn’t want to hang around the market square after their last run in with the guard. The party of four slipped into the shadows and headed for the grassy knoll outside the perimeter of the town’s guard.
Back upon the hillside under the cover of trees and thicket, the four men talked about their time spent in the town that night. Henry told them he hadn’t been able to locate anyone he knew in the town but had hopes tomorrow that the butcher in the market would be able to give them more information about Clarence.
Christopher then shared their encounter in the market square and of their visit to the tavern. Peter included the conversation he’d overheard, about the procession on Sunday. Maybe the butcher would be able to shed some light on the matter as well.
They settled down for the night and the four decided it would be safer if they slept in shifts. One would stay awake and keep watch for any stray patrols while the others slept. The last thing they needed was to be caught unawares in the middle of the night, so James took the first watch and after a few hours he’d wake Christopher to replace him. No fire could be lit to keep warm that night as the smell of the smoke would drift towards the town. Instead they made beds out of leaves and wrapped themselves in their thick woollen cloaks to stay as warm as possible.
James’ watch passed without incident. The only noise he heard came from the wildlife within the thicket and the sounds the three men made as they slept.
A few hours later James woke Christopher to take over the watch. Christopher rose in silence and James took his place in the leaves where Christopher’s warmth still lingered. He pulled his cloak around himself and soon was asleep. Christopher stretched his tired body and then helped himself to a drink from one of the skins before he walked away from where the others slept. Christopher stood upon the small knoll that overlooked the town of Canameer. Deep in thought he wondered how they’d find Clarence without raising anyone’s suspicions. They were unknown in the town and people were bound to notice them. Christopher watched the town of Canameer for a while. It was dark and quiet as those within its buildings slept, reenergizing themselves for the day that would inevitably follow.
Soon they’d travel to the caves and Christopher needed to be sure about his decision; one that he could live with, that they all could live with. Time flew by as Christopher made plans. He thought of his family, all who’d died at the Keep and those who still lived with him in this land. He thought of various events that had come to pass throughout his life and what life would be like if everyone could make their own choices and not be ruled by another’s sword.
He returned to the camp when his watch had finished and helped himself to another drink. The sun would begin to rise soon enough but for now he’d be able to grab a few hours’ sleep before its full light bathed the earth and they’d have no choice but to begin their day. Peter had the final watch. The three of them had decided to let Henry sleep. They knew he’d be cross with them when he woke, but that would be in the morning and they’d be too busy with the day ahead for him to be angry for long. Christopher woke Peter with care. He made sure he stood well away as Peter always slept with his knife, even at home. He kept it handy in case he’d a need for it.
Peter opened his eyes. ‘Your watch,’ Christopher said as he stood and waited for him to rise. He’d take his place in the nest of leaves, which would be warm, and settle down to sleep while Peter patrolled the area around their camp.
The sun’s first rays spread out across the land as the people in the town awoke and went about their business. In the daylight hours the town was busy as the owners set up their stalls and opened their shops for the day’s trade.
Elle made her way down to the market square to collect the orders for the kitchen. She walked along the road, leading the old mare and cart from the stables. In the town she tied the horse to a post near the tavern before collecting her basket and heading over to see Hank. She’d been told to add some extra meat to the cook’s order that had been placed earlier in the week. As she approached the small shop with the stall at the front, Hank called out to her.
‘Good morning, Miss Elle.’
‘It’s more than good, Hank. It’s going to be a beautiful day,’ Elle said.
‘Argh, could be not as lovely as you, Miss.’
Elle battered her eyelashes at Hank as she picked up an imaginary fan to cool herself.
‘Well sir, you do flatter a girl,’ she said in a playful voice which she’d expect a wellborn lady to use.
Hank chuckled at their little joke. He’d known her family since she was a small girl and with her mother and brother now gone, he always kept an eye on her and helped her father whenever he could. ‘Now your order isn’t ready yet, lass. Will be another hour before it’s all packed to take back with you.’
‘That’s fine. Cook wanted me to add two ducks and half a dozen chickens to the order. Company will be at the manor until the end of the week and she’s worried there won’t be enough food to feed them all.’
‘Well love, she’s enough to feed an army with the order she placed earlier,’ Hank said. ‘How’s things up at the manor house then? Is the Captain still under foot?’ Hank was concerned. Word had spread through the town that Kovak Turr had his eyes set on young Elle for his wife.
‘I avoid him whenever I can. He should be gone by the end of the week. Don’t worry, Hank, I’ll be fine,’ Elle said and she gave him a wink and then wandered off to collect the other things that had been ordered for the kitchen.
Henry and Peter had crossed the stone bridge and entered the town along the main road. Christopher and James had entered the town on the opposite side, near the tavern and had walked past Elle’s horse and cart into the market square to look around. Henry and Peter made their way towards the butcher shop. The market was busy as stall owners called out to entice buyers to see their wares. Soldiers passed through the market and headed out of the town to begin their patrols for the day, while others loitered looking for items to purchase and others caught up on news as troops returned from their stints in other villages or towns.<
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Bright canopies adorned the tops of the stalls and provided shelter from the morning sun, while shop owners displayed their wares for sale. The smell of fresh bread wafted through the market and the noise the animals made, as they were herded through the square, made it hard to hear anyone speak. The market was full of life and children played.
Henry approached the butcher’s small shop where a young girl tended the stall out the front. Henry greeted her and asked if he could speak to the owner. She told him he was inside the shop and he could go inside if he wished to speak with him.
Entering the store Henry noticed a rather large man hard at work. He whistled as he packed various meats into wooden crates and stuffed straw around each one to pack them in tight.
‘Good morning, Sir,’ Henry said as he walked up to the counter.
Hank paused in his task. ‘Morning,’ he said. ‘What can I help you with? If you need something cut, you’ll have to wait a minute while I finish this order. The young lass will be back to pick it up soon and it needs to be ready when she gets here.’
‘That’s fine,’ Henry said, ‘I can wait until you’re done.’
Hank packed the meat for Elle and placed the extra birds on the top of the crates. ‘Now what can I help you with this morning?’ Hank said as he wiped his bloody hands on an old rag.
‘I was looking for some friends who used to live here in Canameer, but they seem to have moved on. The man who now lives in their house seemed to think you might be able to help me locate them?’
‘Not many left from the old days still live here, only a few can be found. Who were you looking for then?’ Hank wasn’t about to tell this stranger anything that he shouldn’t.
‘Ardrich and his wife Mia were friends of mine, they lived over on…’
‘I know the place,’ Hank said. ‘Sorry to be the one to tell you, but they died the day the soldiers invaded the town.’