by P. G. Thomas
Chapter 16
After they had eaten their meal that night, Steve went into Gayne’s study. With a piece of charcoal, he drew a large representation of the area on the floor, and from the book shelves, he selected numerous hand sized items to represent the ships. When Lauren first walked in, she had a flashback to the map Pintar had made, and a wave of fear threatened to pull her under. Thinking of her daughters, she surfaced through the crushing dread and waited.
Ryan, Eric, Logan, and the three dwarves spread around the room.
“You’re sure you still want to do this?” asked Steve.
Everybody’s gaze turned to Lauren, who nodded.
“If I were going to plan this, I would set an explosive diversion on one of these ships.” He pointed with a long stick to the far end of the imaginary docks, “Then place a secondary one here,” pointing to where the wharfs began. “When most of the soldiers, sailors, and workers have raced to the far end to deal with the fire, we set off the second so they can’t return to help defend. With the high wall, most of the people outside will never see the fire, only the smoke, and even if they did, I think their hunger will keep them in place. So we’ll need another diversion, something to get them away from the wall. Lauren, you said you wanted to send a message, so the people will start believing in Mother. Any ideas?”
Walking to the middle of the map where the docks were marked out on the floor, Lauren picked up one of the objects that represented a ship, “Where did you get this?”
Steve pointed to the bookshelves around the room, “Why?”
“It’s an Iron Wood seed. If we plant this somewhere, I can make it grow. If one of her trees sprouted up from nothing, there would be no sign more significant that Mother was present. As I make it grow, the people will watch.”
“If you say so,” Steve turned to Gor, Grax, and Amber, “Back in your mine, did you ever use blasting powder to make new tunnels?”
Amber had a strange look on her face, “Powder? Blast? Rockeaters, new tunnels make they do.”
Steve shook his head, “What? Forget it. We’ll need to talk to John to get some recipes and try to figure out where the ingredients are. When we have them, we’ll need him to make some sort of a timer. Then I’ll swim out to one of the ships to start it on fire, distracting everybody on the far side of the wall. I’ll then place a second—”
Logan, feeling his arms burning, knew he had to do something to satisfy Sister, even if it was a lie, “Just tell me where you want the fires, old man.”
“Kid, I doubt if you could swim out there, placing the charges where we need them.”
“I can’t swim.” After rolling back his right sleeve, he began rubbing the red feather tattoo. A small ball of flame burst forward into his hand, which grew in intensity. “None taken, old man. Just point and leave the rest to me.”
“This would be new Intel. How far is your range?”
“Let’s go out tomorrow and watch the ships come in, but I’m pretty sure that as soon as I see one, I can burn it.”
“Well, okay. That only leaves the wall. There aren’t any receptacles, like mailboxes or waste containers, at the docks where we could hide an explosive. Setting it on fire, waiting for it to burn, could take too long. We could try to smuggle in ladders and breach it, or some of us could swim in, entering from behind, and take out the last guards, but that would be a poor choice. Any other ideas?”
John, having wandered up from the basement, was standing in the doorway. “Logan, could you heat the nails that are holding the wall together?”
He turned around, “I can try. Why?”
“The saltwater most likely has them rusted. If you can superheat them, they should just disintegrate. What’re you guys up to?”
Lauren met John’s gaze with an excitement called hope blazing brightly in her eyes. “People are starving here, and I need them to believe in Mother. If enough start talking about her, maybe Tranquil will be able to help, but we need to do something.”
John both agreed and disagreed, “I know, but I don’t like it.”
“There are already resistance fighters here,” Steve replied.
“Yeah, but they aren’t using magic. If you start blowing up ships, growing trees from nothing, they’ll start asking questions, and Lauren, I don’t like how they do that here.”
“I’m not going to stand up in a town meeting announcing myself, but I need to do something to get the people to talk to Mother. You just fix that damn machine and figure out that root.”
“Steve, can’t you be less visible?” asked John. “Bribe guards or break in and steal it yourselves?”
“I thought about it, Kid, but those soldiers are paid better and aren’t starving. It would take months to find a weak link in that organization without insider Intel, and break-ins have even more issues. I thought about trying to start a peasant revolt, but that takes time with lots of black ops. I think, if we can provide an opportunity, the citizens and resistance fighters will do the rest. If Lauren is right, a message from Mother should really screw up Zymse game plan, as he might even start making mistakes.”
“I know all of that, but I’m months from fixing the machine, if not longer. If they start to look for us—”
“Then we’ll find some other place for our sanctuary,” Lauren interjected, “but right now, if I can do something to make people believe in Mother, then I have to.”
“I won’t argue with you,” John started, “but last time your fight was to push back the shadows, exposing the truth. This time, you need to wrap yourself in them to hide, just like the black-clad did. This time, Mother being back is the hoax. If Darkpaye exposes the truth quicker than we’re prepared for, it won’t end well. So whatever you’re going to do, do the least that you can. The more magic you use, the quicker he’ll realize somebody is acting against him.” Then John turned and headed back to the basement.
Everybody in the room looked at Lauren, “Tomorrow we’ll go down to the docks. We’ll find a spot to plant this seed, and see if Logan can heat up the nails in the wall. We’re going to help feed the starving people here to make them believe in Mother, and you all need to understand that.” Then she turned, heading up to her room, as the others went to the main part of the house.
Before Logan could leave, Steve pulled him to the side. “It might not be any of my business, but I noticed a number of bottles missing from the wine cellar, from the back, like somebody is trying to hide something.”
Logan pushed him to the side, “You’re right. It’s none of your business.”
Steve knew the difference between a drinking problem and a problem with wanting to drink. When the court ordered psychiatrist asked for a definition of excessive, Steve closed his eyes, and the memories drowned in booze floated to the surface. The distraught student who had stabbed his teacher forty times. The drunk who had smashed his car into the pre-school playground killing so many. The crazed husband who had beat his wife so bad, she had to spend six months in a hospital, and in the end, she was released into the care of the coroner. When Steve started to talk about the diary of the over-weight young girl, who was verbally abused daily by her parents, taking her own life, the psychiatrist called the session to an end, offering to buy the first round.
As Steve reached for his drink, he wasn’t sure which problem Logan had, but having a human flame thrower on their side, remembering the stories, he also realized the potential of the new asset. With hesitation, he accepted the situation, deciding to keep a close eye on Logan.
*******
Gor, opening the door to their dimly lit room, went to the lamp and turned the wick up. Amber, holding a large object under her coat, rushed into the room. Grax quietly entered, cradling three small mugs, and set them down on the table. Amber pulled out a pitcher of beer from under her coat and began filling them, ensuring that each received the same amount, her deer ears pointed towards the hall.
Gor was smiling, “The rebirth of Mother, from our lips, we will tell t
he story.”
“Bards will be still writing,” Grax added, “but our offspring will continue the story.”
“Legend it is, but it is not born. Have either of you heard of the Saga of Diamond River?” Amber asked before taking a sip of their ill-gotten treasure.
Thinking they were about to hear a new story, both Gor and Grax shook their heads.
“Ironfist’s journey, Battle of Dragon Last,” continued Amber, “Northern Gems. Have you heard any of these sagas?”
Once again, both shook their heads, wondering why she had withheld such legends.
“You will not hear them, as those who lived them took their tales to unknown graves. For every ten legends born, the bards only hear one. Witness legend, yes, we may, but live to tell the bards, first we must. I worry that you are both lore blinded. Many dwarf are winter lost to Ironhouse and do not return. First, we must survive the challenges, but telling the story is last. If we fail the first, the great halls will never hear our spoken words. Your memory is like dwarf, short, and the words from Tranquil, you have forgotten already. Her warning, understand it we must. We are dwarf, Ironhouse, and toast to challenges we will. Father sent, our mission is simple: protect the legends. Of stories new, no more will I hear.” She then raised her mug, softly whispered, “Ironhouse.” Gor and Grax did the same, and they all drained their drinks. Then Amber dimmed the lamp, stripped off her outer clothes, and climbed into her bed.
Gor looked at Grax, whispered, “Elf in her, a wet blanket it is.”
From the dark, they both heard the elfin words, “I hear you.”
Then they filled their mugs with the remaining beer, drained their drinks, and climbed into their beds as well.
*******
The next morning after they had finished their meal, the eight headed down to the docks, and Lauren clutched the Iron Wood seed as if it was a newborn. When they arrived, the group formed a tight circle around her as she examined the boards, looking for a place to bury it. Finding a loose one, after Amber bent down, pried her ax under it, Eric stood on the handle. When the board snapped, Lauren quickly dug the dirt out with her hands, placing the large seed into the small hole, and said a silent prayer to Mother as she covered it up. After the brief stop, they were once again moving through the foul-smelling crowd, working their way to one end of the wall. Once there, Logan rolled back his right sleeve, rubbed the red tattoo, as he tried to find the nails that held the wall in place. Seeing a few wisps of smoke, they watched one log fall forward, and knowing they could achieve the objective, they hastily planned out the rest.
That morning, Lauren had borrowed the translation ointment from John, and she showed Gor, Grax, and Amber how to apply it. She looked at the three, “When you see the tree begin to grow, find a crowd, and whisper behind them, ‘a sign from Mother.’ Then move away before anybody sees you. Do you understand?” All three nodded, and then Lauren joined Ryan at the south side of the docks to monitor the growth of the tree. Returning to the deserted three story building, Logan, Eric, and Steve climbed onto the roof.
Steve was pointing to the docks, “Pick any third ship from the end, and light the cargo hold on fire. Just one. We want to be stealthy about this, like John mentioned.” He saw Logan begin to rub the red tattoo, watched the expression on his face change, as if somebody had pulled a foreign object out of him. Steve turned his gaze back to the docks, seeing a plume of smoke rising from a ship at the far end. However, it started to billow out, like ash from an angry volcano. “You can stop now, Kid!”
“It’s not me. I don’t know what I set on fire, but it’s burning on its own. Do you want me to put it out?”
Before Steve could answer, it exploded, shooting burning embers and lumber onto the surrounding ships. “Must have been carrying grain since that dust can be explosive.” Then soldiers and sailors started forcing the Bright Coast workers down the docks to fight the fire.
As the smoke raced to the sky, Lauren pushed her heavy staff into the earth, leaned on it thinking of the Iron Wood seed, and sent the magic forward. Gor, Grax, and Amber had been standing close by it, ensuring that nobody stepped on it, but within seconds, it shot up from the ground and was several feet tall. Spreading out, they began to whisper, ‘a sign from Mother.’ When the tree first appeared, those closest moved back in shock, causing a ripple effect in the crowd, and soon all were repeating the message they had heard.
As the crowds moved towards the tree, Steve called out, “Take down the wall.”
Logan sent out Sister’s heat, telling it to find the nails. As the crowd watched the tree majestically erupt skyward, log after log began to fall from the wall. From both ends, its structural integrity failed, sending it crashing to the ground, as did the soldiers who stood on the top walkway. When the citizens turned their gaze from the tree to the new commotion on the docks, they never saw the soldiers trying to regroup, and instead, they saw wagons of food that they rushed. The guards, sounding alarms, made preparations to defend the area, but they were too few.
“Okay, Kid, we need the second diversion now, but don’t burn the place down.”
Logan, rubbing his blue tattoo, called to the seabirds, which answered. Guards from the end of the dock where the ships burnt raced towards the crowds, but thick mobs of seabirds dive-bombed them, pushing them back. Much to the delight of the eight, they saw the wagons loaded with fresh food leave the docks, being driven by somebody from the Bright Coast. The desire to eat devoured any potential threats to their safety from their current actions.
As Eric gave Logan a high five, Steve pointed to the west end of the dock. There mounted black-clad soldiers were rushing in, but resistance greeted them. Beggars threw off their robes, unsheathed swords, and assaulted the advancing forces, which quickly turned back. Wave after wave of black-clad soldiers tried to advance on the docks, but more resistance fighters met each subsequent push. Late in the day, while some ships had sunk, others still burned, and all of the wagons loaded with the hijacked food had disappeared into the numerous alleys, including the resistance fighters. So they regrouped, heading back to Gayne’s house all smiling. However, Lauren hid a new secret, as after she had raised the tree, she realized her staff had shortened by eight inches.
*******
It was breakfast the next day, and John could see a new concern on Lauren’s face.
“We have to do something about Danex. Her looking after Mirtza, even with Logan’s help, is starting to wear her down. Last night when we returned, she was sleeping on the couch. She’s too polite to say it, but we’re asking too much of her, and Mirtza needs better care. We can’t expect her to bathe him and to do everything else he needs. I was thinking of asking her to hire a nurse. What do you think?”
“I understand what you’re saying,” began Eric, “but we just can’t let anybody in here. With what we did yesterday, if the wrong person knew about that, they would turn us in for a reward. The last thing that we need is a spy watching us. Maybe we should see if there some sort of home we can put him in…where he’ll get the care he needs.”
“What if we asked Danex to look after him at her house?” asked Logan. “Poor guy will probably never realize he’s in a different place, and she can hire the necessary help to look after him.”
“Where did that come from?” asked Lauren.
“I wouldn’t want to see him put in a home like our Gramps was. Mirtza doesn’t deserve that, so I’ll go over after breakfast and talk to her, and see if she can help in a different way. We can rent one of her rooms, can’t we, John?”
“We have lots of gold so go talk to her,” and then he turned his gaze to Lauren and Steve, “I heard you talking last night about what happened yesterday. How bad is it?”
“There’s nothing to worry about,” replied Steve. “Resistance fighters were present, and anybody from Darkpaye would’ve thought it was them. We’re clean, and there are no eyes on us.”
“I want to go down and have a look.”
“Kid,
there’s nothing to see.”
John had already left the table, but he stopped, turning to face Steve. “An earthquake happens in the ocean, and twelve hours later, a tsunami slams into the coast of a Pacific Rim country. That’s why they littered the water with those oceanic buoys. Sometimes there’s a delay between the event and reaction, so we’re going down to the docks,” and then he headed upstairs to change clothes.
“Is he always like this?” asked Steve.
Lauren looked down at her mug of cold bean juice, “He worries. Worries even more than I do, he just won’t admit it. To be honest, we most likely changed the game yesterday. If his fears are real, and if there’s going to be a giant wave crashing onto the shore, then we need to find a way off of the beach and quick.”
Steve turned to Eric, who shrugged his shoulders, missing the sound of the spikes projecting out. “Hey, last time, I had a host who told me what was happening, but he wouldn’t let me share the conversations, and I spent most of the game sitting on the bench. I didn’t really get into it until the last quarter, so this is as new to me as it is to you.”
After the meal, Logan went over to Danex, describing the proposal. Returning to the group waiting outside of the house, he explained that she agreed to take in Mirtza as a border, advising that she would hire a couple of caregivers to help. John jumped onto the front seat of the wagon beside Ryan and Lauren. Eric, Logan, and Steve were in the back with the three Ironhouse cousins. As they made it farther into the city, Steve noticed Amber’s ears starting to twitch from side to side.
After they had traveled about thirty minutes, Amber crawled up behind the seat and tugged on Lauren’s jacket, “Hear it can you?” Lauren looked down with a quizzical expression, and Amber pointed to the various crowds. “Of Mother all talk, and some Sister mention.”
She started to scan the crowds, unsure if it was her imagination or reality, but they seemed to be acting differently. Lauren poked John in the ribs, “This has to be a good sign, right?”
He scanned the people, “Maybe Tranquil will be able to hear them now, but right now, it’s too early to make that call.”