by Alex Aguilar
“Care for any more water?” Milo asked Robyn as held out a tin jar, his curiosity towards the girl more obvious by the minute.
“Never mind water,” Skinner grunted, still digging through the pile. “Why don’t you offer the girl some ale?”
“Um, no thanks,” Robyn shook her head. “I’ve never liked the taste.”
Skinner scoffed under his breath. “No one drinks ale ‘cause they like the taste.”
“How about an apple?” Milo asked with a wide grin, desperate to keep Robyn’s attention.
“No, thank you,” Robyn chuckled.
“Or a pear? A carrot? Some garlic?”
“I-I’m honestly stuffed, thanks…”
“A bit of tea, perhaps?” Gibbons asked from afar.
“Give her some of the grey. That spinach chive one’s a real gut-wrencher.”
“Bloody hells, why does she get all the pamperin’?” Ayisha growled with annoyance. And next to her, Yuri mumbled something along the lines of ‘No one’s ever offered me some garlic’.
“Well if what she says is true,” Skinner replied to Ayisha, his eyes finally finding the old map they’d been searching for among the pile. “If the princess of Vallenghard has indeed been taken… then perhaps King Alistair might benefit from an alliance with King Rowan. Halghard needs more swords and Vallenghard’s got ‘em. If a favor exchange can be arranged, well…”
“So ye plan on leavin’ us again?” Ayisha protested. “Sir, with respect, we’re n-”
“Don’t question me, girl,” Skinner said, though his tone was less strict than his words were. “Alistair’s army is camped just a few miles south. It won’t take me more than a day’s journey. Besides, rumor has it Balthazar Locke’s troops march south as we speak. Know what that means?”
Ayisha, along with the rest of the young wardens, had silenced themselves, their attention focused solely on their commander.
“It means it’s only a matter of time before things get bloody messy around here,” Skinner remarked. “I need you lot to stay here. Grymsbi’s the nearest township for miles and raids might be inevitable. This town could use a few good swords to defend it.”
“Fine,” Ayisha said. “But I’m ridin’ with ye!”
“Nonsense,” Skinner said without hesitating. “You’re in charge while I’m gone.”
“Aldous can look after ‘em! Ye might need me f-”
“The answer’s ‘no’, Ayisha…”
“But, sir, y-”
“You’re staying here, soldier. That’s an order!” Skinner snapped, and Ayisha’s lips remained shut afterwards. But, as harsh as the man seemed, he had an obvious fondness for his orphaned group of miscreants. It was clear in the way he always softened the blow with a justification. “There’s no need to worry about me, I’ll be fine,” he said. “Alistair’s an old friend of mine. Believe me, the trip will be a breeze compared to that mess up north. I’ll be takin’ the cart. I can bring weapons and provisions to the troops while I’m at it.”
“Fine then,” Ayisha said reluctantly, aiming a finger at the map. “But I’m warnin’ ye now. There’s no way ye can take the path through the slopes. Damn rain’s flooded the whole thing. I suggest the cliffside road.”
Milo, Gibbons, and Tails, the three boys in the room that were close to Robyn’s age, huddled around their commander, their eyes fixed on the map as they searched for a safer way out of town.
“What about this path here?” Milo pointed out.
“It’s flooded, too,” Tails said.
“Maybe she can stay here and wait ‘til it dries out?” Gibbons suggested.
“That’ll take days. Maybe weeks.”
“Best to be safe, though, yeah?”
Skinner shoved the boys aside and snatched the old map away. He said nothing, but his expression alone made it obvious that the boys weren’t used to having a lady stay as a guest before. It was amusing enough that it nearly made Robyn’s cheeks flush. She dragged her chair closer and leaned in for a better look, though she had no idea how she could possibly help when she’d never been to Halghard before in her life.
The map of Grymsbi, while accurate enough, looked as if it had been sketched by a child. To begin with, the size of the parchment on which it was drawn was no larger than the size of a handwritten letter and the penmanship was lackluster as was the lack of color. Still, the worn out condition of the old map was representative of how well it had served its purpose over the years for Skinner and his merry band of wardens. The man sat there pensively while the rest of the youths joined the huddle as if they enjoyed his presence, or at least the act of devising a plan with him. They all stared at the map together, bickering and thinking out loud like a tight-knit family. The image, Robyn felt, was something out of a storybook.
“What about that path?” Milo reached over Skinner’s shoulder to point at the map.
“Suppose it might work. It’ll take an extra day though,” Aldous pointed out.
“We don’t have that kind of time,” Skinner concluded.
No, Robyn realized, her mind coming back to reality. No, we don’t…
“I still say the road by the cliff’s yer best bet,” Ayisha didn’t aim a finger, but she didn’t have to. It was quite clear where that road was, it was next to a great spot on the map that was shaded a darker grey than the rest. It almost looked like a wine stain that someone failed to rub off.
“What is that?” Robyn asked, pointing at it.
Everyone suddenly turned to her as if she’d just asked ‘What are the Woodlands?’
That was until they realized she wasn’t from their kingdom to begin with.
“That there’s the Great Rift of Halghard,” Milo said, quite proud to have been the first to speak up.
“You ever seen it up close?” Tails asked.
“It’s brilliant!” Gibbons said. “Takes your breath away. I could take you, if you’d like!”
“That’s enough, lads,” Skinner grunted again. “This ain’t the time.”
Robyn smiled. She had, in fact, heard of the Great Rift of Halghard. Her mother had mentioned it many times in her stories. It was supposed to be spectacular to look at. A great opening in the earth, it was, as if some enormous rock the size of three cities had fallen from the sky and left a dent in the world. Some philosophers believed that this was in fact what caused the Great Rift many centuries past, long before the age of silver. The more religious folk, on the other hand, claimed that the Rift was the ancient battleground where the gods of Nayarith once met to wage war against one another, long before the dawn of civilization itself.
Whatever the truth was, Robyn was only sure of one thing… She wanted very much to see this Great Rift in person.
“I don’t think that road’s very safe,” Milo suggested. “The long route’s the better option.”
“Bollocks,” Tails said. “It’s just high, that’s all.” He gave Robyn a glance and a wink. “You’re not skittish about heights, are you?”
Robyn shook her head. Truthfully she wasn’t very fond of heights, but she was so willing to see the Rift that she fought through the unease.
“So what d’you think?” Ayisha asked her commander. “Y’think the wagon’ll stay in one piece if ye hauled it by the cliff?”
“The wagon might,” Skinner said, his eyes moving towards Robyn. “It’s our guest here I’m concerned about.”
“I’ll manage,” Robyn shrugged her shoulders, looking rather determined.
“I don’t know… My father and I used to take that path on horse when he’d come into the village to trade,” Milo said. “It’s pretty, sure… But it’s narrow. Very narrow. Dragging a cart through there might be asking for trouble. The longer path through the hills is much safer. It’s dark and there are lots of good places to hide if you need to.”
“I’ll manage!” Robyn reiterated.
“You’ll manage to stumble out of the bloody cart ‘n’ fall off into the Rift, girl,” Skinner said, suddenly sounding like a con
cerned father.
“I’ve been in a cart before!” Robyn argued.
“Not with me behind the reins…”
“It’s too dangerous,” Milo added.
“She said she’ll manage,” Ayisha interjected suddenly. She made brief eye contact with Robyn, who was surprised to see the young woman on her side for a change. Ayisha then grunted and turned back to Skinner. “So what are we still dancin’ around for? Just go on ‘n’ drag the bitch by the cliff.”
“Pardon me?!” Robyn exclaimed.
“I was talkin’ about the cart, girl.”
“Oh…”
“H-Hang on, are we sure about this?” Aldous asked worriedly. “Milo’s right, it is quite narrow. And the cart’s wide, you’d have to be an expert to ride it without stumbling off the edge.”
Skinner shot him a stern glare before asking defensively, “What in hells are you implying?”
Aldous stammered, nervous and afraid that he’d just insulted his commander.
“Oh… Um… N-Nothing in particular, sir!”
“You don’t think I can handle it? Is that what you’re gettin’ at?”
“N-No, sir. Just, um… Just lookin’ out for our guest, that’s all.”
“She’ll manage,” Skinner said, to which Robyn couldn’t help but grin. “So it’s settled then,” Skinner folded the old map and tucked it into his coat. “We leave first thing in the morning.”
Robyn felt her cheeks cramping up, she’d been smiling so much; it felt nice to smile for a change. She didn’t think she would be able to sleep a single minute, she was so eager to see this legendary Rift. Whatever dangers lied ahead when she caught up with her brother were secondary. If she died, she would at least be able to gaze into one of the greatest marvels the world had to offer. She felt readier than ever.
Suddenly, a loud banging nearly made the front door drop from its hinges.
As if it had been staged, every pair of eyes in the room glanced towards the door in unison. The knock was an angry one and it was followed by a gravelly voice that Robyn found rather familiar. “Open up!” it said.
Almost by instinct, Ayisha drew a dagger that she had hidden in her sleeve. The quiet girl with caramel skin, whom Robyn had heard be referred to as Mallory, also drew the knives from her belt and stood next to Ayisha. The rest of the crew found whatever weapon was closest to them and held it ready in a manner that could only be attained with enough practice.
“At ease, soldiers,” Skinner whispered as he rose gently from his seat. Aldous and Ayisha stood at either side of the man, guarding him. Skinner looked at the rest of the group and made a hand motion with two of his fingers; the youths proceeded to scatter away around the cabin, each in a different direction, hiding in places where they’d be out of sight yet ready to pounce if necessary.
“Oi!” the growl of a voice called again, banging a heavy fist against the door as if attempting to break it open. “I said open the fuckin’ door!”
Something in the voice made Robyn twitch. She knew she’d heard it before, only it was muffled by the thick oak. She contemplated running to the nearest window to peek outside but that would have meant stepping in front of Skinner, something that none of the youths dared to do.
On the other side of the door, a green orc with a massive scar on his chest was starting to lose his patience, and a much calmer serpentine figure by his feet was looking up at him with a humanlike grimace.
“I thought we agreed to be subtle!” Nyx hissed.
“It’s a town of human filth,” the Beast scoffed. “What’re they gonna do? Shake a parchment in me face ‘cause I broke one o’ their laws?”
“They can kill us…”
“They can try,” the Beast growled. “I’ve seen more dangerous blokes in Bauqora.” The orc not only knocked again, he began kicking the door as well. But from the corner of his only eye, Nyx caught the movement; a husky adolescent boy in a cook’s apron was peeking down at them through an upstairs window.
“Beast,” Nyx hissed.
“Hmm?”
“Look…”
The Beast took a glance, and then Gibbons darted away from the window with a fright.
“That’s it, I seen enough!” the Beast growled angrily as he drew his axe and lifted his arm into the air to smash the door in. At that moment, however, the knob turned gently and the door creaked open. The dreary image of an old man that may have once been a noble warrior stood at the entrance.
“Greetings, good sir. May I help you?” Skinner asked.
The orc was thrown aback suddenly. He took a moment to lower his axe and ease his shoulders before he said, “I’m here lookin’ for a girl.”
Skinner couldn’t help but grin. “In that case, you’ve come to the wrong household, lad. You want Flaherty’s, in the northern part of town.”
The Beast remained where he stood. He’d failed to notice the arrows being aimed at him from above, but he noticed now. Nyx saw them too, but he was skeptical about speaking out, unsure of how the old man might react to a talking serpent.
What the Beast’s eyes instantly latched onto, however, was the brand on Skinner’s left cheek. The symbol was all too familiar… In fact, the Beast had the same mark tattooed on his wrist. It troubled him, knowing he was staring into the eyes of a former slave of the Brotherhood’s.
“I ain’t toyin’ with ye,” the Beast said, taking an unwelcomed step inside the cabin. Impulsively, however, Ayisha and Aldous held their blades up, protecting their master. But the Beast did not wince, not even a bit.
“Not another step, ye hear?” Ayisha warned him, glancing repeatedly at the Beast’s scorpion tattoo.
“The Brotherhood is not welcome in Grymsbi,” Aldous added.
“At ease, soldiers,” Skinner muttered.
There was a moment of silence, during which the hostility in the room worsened. But then a voice mumbled gently from a far, a voice that broke the tension almost instantly.
“Beast…?” Robyn said, her stunned eyes widening as she stepped forward. “Is that you…?”
The orc’s glare softened with relief all of a sudden. Without saying another word, Robyn ran and threw her arms around him; she was so much shorter than him that her face pressed against his scars and yet she did not pull back. The Beast was unsure how to react. He simply stood there with his arms at his sides, not embracing the girl in return but also not disapproving of it. After all, this was the first time the orc had been held in such an embrace since he was a child.
Skinner cleared his throat gently. “Arrows down,” he muttered. “At ease, all of you.”
Robyn let go of the Beast and looked up at his slightly baffled yet warm expression.
“You came back!” she said enthusiastically.
“Hey, scrap…”
Robyn immediately looked down at her beloved Nyx, his serpentine tail wagging impulsively with joy at the sight of her.
“Lady Robyn!” he said, his humanlike eye glistening with disbelief. “Thank the gods y-”
She dropped suddenly to her knees and embraced him as well, and Nyx was not reluctant this time. He was so glad and relieved to see her that he wished he had arms so that he could hug her back. Meanwhile, every jaw inside the cabin dropped from the confusion, and they began whispering to each other behind Robyn’s back.
“Did that thing just…”
“Shh! Don’t interrupt!”
“But it just spoke…”
“Shut yer arses!” Ayisha snapped, but even she couldn’t help but feel unsettled.
Robyn had no care in the world. She wiped the incoming tears and backed away from Nyx, keeping a warm hand on the rough scales that might have been his neck. “I can’t believe you both came back,” she said, unable to stop smiling.
“I thought you were scared of serpents,” Nyx said; he would have smiled in return if his scales weren’t holding him back.
“I am,” Robyn chuckled, blissful and overwhelmed with joy. “But… I think it’s a
bout time I grew up a little.”
* * *
Viktor Crowley sat alone on the grass a short distance away from King Alistair’s campground. He was at the top of a steep hill that gave him an impressive view of the night sky; on this night, it was a luminous shade of violet, made only more dazzling by the iridescent stars and the massive half-moon rising out of the horizon.
A brilliant place to make camp, Viktor thought. You could spot an enemy troop from miles away.
In the distance, he could see the shadows of the Wyrmwood watchmen hiding among the trees, their bows with arrows nocked and ready. He both admired King Alistair’s tactical skill and envied it, knowing very well that he may never be able to serve as a knight again. Not unless he brought home a living princess, and even then it was a gamble.
Sitting alone for more than a few minutes was not good for Viktor Crowley’s sanity. Isolation often brought him doubt, fear, sometimes even anger. And this night was no exception.
He thought of John Huxley, the reckless sheep farmer from Elbon.
He thought of the thief and the witch he had hired merely on an impulse.
He thought of Zahrra, who had assured him that his companions were alive and would be waiting for him in Wyrmwood. Those were her words, words that were based on a mere vision, and he had taken the risk of believing them… A fool, he was, to trust in such nonsense…
They’d been in the camp for hours by then. He must have questioned about a hundred men. But he had been seen riding into camp with a troop of elves and gnomes, and therefore not many soldiers were willing to speak to him, and those that did were hardly of any help.
What a fool you are, he cursed himself. You see the smallest sign of hope, Viktor Crowley, and you latch onto it until it shatters before you, as it always does… An ignorant credulous fool you are…
His ear suddenly caught the sound of dry grass rustling underneath boots, and he smiled unexpectedly. A few soldiers had approached him already within the last hour, but none had so gentle a step.
“Any news?” Viktor asked without even looking back.
Skye took a seat on the grass next to him, legs folded underneath, wooden staff resting flat on their lap. It seemed as though Skye would always arrive at the appropriate moment, just when Viktor needed a good lift of spirits. “I won’t lie to you. It’s looking rather bad,” said the elf. Even when delivering unfortunate news, it was incredible how soothing a presence Skye had, at least in Viktor’s mind.