by J Battle
‘It certainly sounds like a nautical thing to do.’
They were in the tavern, finalising plans, and everyone else was about their own business.
‘Who will be going? Have you decided?’
‘It is not entirely up to me. Only those who are willing will come, but not all of those who are willing. Some I absolutely need, others are...optional.’
‘How do I fit?’
‘You? Are you willing? Then I would say you are optional, but it would be good to have you, I reckon.’
‘Then...’
‘There you are brother! And the little lady.’ Garraldi face was red and his hair was mussed.
‘And you brother, where have you been?’
‘Do you know...do you know that this town has 17 taverns? Can you believe it?’ There was a slur to his voice and he held a firm grip on the table for support.
‘And you’ve been in every one?’
‘Not yet, brother. Not yet. There’s still the Broken...something of other, and the Hanging...I want to say bollocks, but that can’t be right.’
All of a sudden, he slumped into the chair across from them and beamed at Ellaine.
‘Is he boring you yet, my dear?’
Ellaine gave him her sweetest smile.
‘Not at all, kind sir.’
‘Then he will. Only a matter of time. You should come with me, to...the Broken Bollock, you should. I know how to treat a woman, I do.’ He tried a wink, but both eyes joined in.
‘Have we finished here, Cavour?’ she asked, as she stood up.
‘I think so. We can speak later?’
‘That will help you sleep, him ‘speaking’ to you later.’
‘Good day, Mr Garraldi.’ Then she was gone.
‘She’s mighty pretty,’ said Garraldi, as he watched her go.
‘What are you doing, brother?’
‘I’d be drinking if you thought to buy your only brother a drink.’
‘You’ve drunk the town dry already, so you hardly need anymore. What is this about?’
Garraldi sighed and lowered his face to the table.
‘I’m going home, brother. I don’t belong here. I’m...I’m no use. There’s folk here with plans and serious faces, and...what good would I be? It was a mistake to come, though we had fun on the road, I reckon.’
Cavour sucked on his empty pipe for a moment.
‘You will do what you must.’
‘Come with me. We had fun on the road. Come home and it will be like it used to be.’
‘Like it used to be? How can that be? Even your ale-addled brain must see that.’
‘It weren’t...I didn’t want to...you know.’
‘Yet still they are dead.’
‘I...’
Cavour didn’t wait for justifications or explanations. He strode from the barroom and didn’t look back.
Chapter 61 Boys
‘If he were in town, we’d have seen him, I reckon,’ said Tom, as they walked in single file across the reservoir.
‘Not if he didn’t want to be seen.’
‘You reckon?’
‘Ay, ‘cause that Magic, it can change you. That’s why I reckon the Lady is right, what she says.’
‘But, a land without Magic? Where’s the fun in that?’
‘Magic ain’t fun, Tom. It’s…well, it’s hard, I’d say.’
‘I know that, ‘cause I used it to save you, but still, flying around like Gorge, that would be a thing to do.’
‘But, without Magic, we don’t have Elvenfolk crawling all over us, or nasty mages turning people funny, and the Lady, she says we’ll get used to being without it. And you know what that piece of wood said. ‘When the age of Magic comes to an end, then the First Men shall return.’ That’s what it said.’
‘Ay, I reckon you’ve remembered that spot on.’
‘Do you think he’d have minded, me taking the wood?’
‘No, he’d be pleased that it went to a good home.’
‘Dan the Man gave me a funny look when he saw it, and he said I couldn’t put it up on the wall.’
‘That’s Dan the Man for you.’
‘He said, and I don’t quite get what he meant, but he had a serious look on his face when he said it.’
‘What did he say?’
‘Oh, he said, ‘be careful what you wish for.’ Whatever that might mean.’
‘Don’t you go worrying about Dan the Man. I’ll have a word with him tonight and he’ll say you can put it up, just to stop me talking.’
They came to the far wall and climbed the steps.
‘I do like being in the valley,’ said Tom, taking a deep breath.
‘It don’t smell like it used to.’
‘That’s what the world without Magic smells like, I’d say.’
Sam let his eyes run up the slopes on either side of the valley.
‘It looks strange without the mistwall. Are we safe without it protecting us?’
‘Now, Sam, I’ve thought on this and I reckon I can make some sense here. The mistwall stopped anyone from knowing we have Magic, and coming to try and take it from us. But now we don’t have the mistwall, and we don’t have Magic, so there’s nothing for anyone to come and try and take from us, so that means we’re safe.’
Sam gave him a look as if to say ‘it sounds like you’re making sense, but I’m not sure you are.’
He turned away and began to walk along the path that would take them to the road.
‘North, you reckon?’ he said, when they reached the road.
‘Ay, I reckon. He left you all upset, didn’t he? And he thinks he did wrong, and you know Gorge, he’d want to fix it.’
‘So, how would he do that?’
‘I don’t know for sure, but mayhap he’s taking it back to where he got it. If he can give it back. I reckon he’d try, anyways. What do you think?’
‘Sounds like something he’d want to do. So, north it is then.’
They walked in silence for a while.
‘Do you reckon he’ll still build his boat? I was looking forward to working on that, and sleeping on it as well. I reckon I’d sleep well on a boat.’
Tom laughed and threw an arm over Sam’s broad shoulders.
‘I reckon you’d sleep well on a nail, you would.’
‘No harm in liking my sleep, is there?’
‘Not at all.’
They came to Frenk’s cottage, and they covered their mouths with their hands at the foul smell from the rotting crops.
‘Don’t reckon he’s in,’ said Tom, ‘he’s probably still down in town with all them important meetings going on.’
‘At least with the Lady there, there’s someone to talk good sense.’
‘You like the Lady, don’t you, Sam.’
‘Of course I like her. She’s nice.’
‘No, I mean you like her,’ teased Tom.
‘I…no…it’s not like…’ He gave Tom a shove that sent him sprawling.
Tom lay on his back and laughed.
‘I have you there, I reckon, and no mistake.’
‘Get up, you oaf. We have business we need to be about.’
‘How close will the ice be to the boulder, do you reckon?’ asked Sam, after a quiet period.
‘Well, we’ll see soon enough. I’ll race you!’
Tom was off before he’d finished ‘race.’
Sam shook his head and, knowing he had little chance, chased after him anyway.
He caught him easily enough, because he’d stopped after less than 100 yards and was just standing, with one hand on his head.
‘Ah! I’m going…’ yelled Sam, as he raced past him.
Suddenly he stopped.
‘There’s a…there’s a wall there, Tom.’
‘Ay, I see it.’
‘How…who put it there?’
Tom walked closer, past Sam.
‘The ground is wet; look, it’s all muddy.’
‘The wall; it’s leaking. Look, you can
see,’ said Sam.
The wall blocked the narrow pass and stood over 10 feet in height. It was made up of huge rocks and tiny stones, and there was not an ounce of mortar to hold it all together.
‘Who put it there, do you reckon? Gorge?’ asked Sam.
‘Ay, Sam, you could be right. But the bigger question ain’t that, Sam. It’s what’s on the other side. That’s the question.’
‘But…it’ll be ice, won’t it?’
‘It may be ice, but it’s ice that’s been melted. That’s what he’s gone and done. He’s as clever as anything, is Gorge, but he can be as silly as…I was going to say you, there, Sam but you ain’t never silly. You take your own sweet time, but you think it through, and you always get there.’
‘He’s melted God’s Saddle? But that’s…where will all that water go, if it ain’t ice?’
‘That’s the thing, Sam, and I reckon it’s trying to get in to the valley and that wall ain’t going to hold for long, I’d say.’
‘What will we do?
‘I reckon we tell the Lady, and her pa, and that Ellaine woman. They’ll know what’s best.’
Sam turned and walked through the mud to drier land.
‘What you doing, Tom?’ He turned and found that his friend hadn’t moved.
‘I’m…I reckon we need to know what’s on the other side,’ he said, slowly.
‘Water; that’s what’s on the other side.’
‘Ay, Sam, but I want to take a look. I reckon I can climb it.’
‘You might pull it all down.’
‘No, I’ll be careful. If I put my foot there, and grab hold of that here, and then there, I’ll be on the top in no time.’
Sam had one or two things he’d like to say about this fool project, but Tom was already half way up the wall before he could say a word.
‘What do you see?’ he said, instead, when Tom was perched on top of the rough wall.
Tom didn’t answer for a moment, as his eyes scanned the scene before him.
‘God’s Saddle is still there,’ he called, ‘but the edge is about 500 yards away, and there’s ice and water in between. It’s about three foot from the top of the wall and there’s things…’ He stopped speaking all of a sudden, and he leaned forward.
‘What’s wrong, Tom?’
There was no response as Tom leaned further out over the water.
Sam walked closer, his boots squelching in the mud.
‘What is it, Tom? What can you see?’
‘Oh, Sam…’ Tom could say no more.
Sam began to climb, uncaring of the integrity of the wall.
‘What?’ he said, as he awkwardly leaned over the top.
Tom pointed his finger. ‘He’s there, Sam.’
For a moment, Sam couldn’t see what he was pointing at. Then he looked down into the water, deep into the water, and he saw him, wedged between the bolder and the pole that had stood guard for years.
‘Gorge,’ he said, as softly as a hummingbird’s wing.
The two boys remained atop the wall for an age; neither speaking.
As the light faded, they climbed wordlessly from the wall and set off towards Hesselton.
Chapter 62 Cavour
He left the tavern, fed up with ale and smoke and chat. He was, after all, a solitary fellow, and his years on the road had taught him the value of his own company.
His lodgings were in a smaller tavern, just off Main Street, and none of the other members of the group shared his base.
The streets were quiet as he walked, though it wasn’t really late, but he noticed curtains twitching as he passed. He turned every now and again, concerned that he might be followed, but who would want to follow him?
Still, he felt agitated and prickly, and even Ellaine’s soft voice had got on his nerves.
‘Best to be on my own, I reckon,’ he muttered, as he came to his corner.
There was a man standing in the shadows, on the other side of the street.
Cavour stopped, and glanced quickly over his shoulder.
‘Good evening to you, sir,’ he called.
The figure stepped into the light. He was a short man, of middle years, with little hair on his head, but plenty of flesh around his waist.
‘What you say?’ he grunted.
‘I merely wished you good evening.’
‘Don’t you start with your fancy words here, stranger. We don’t like strangers here.’
Cavour looked around, but there was just the two of them.
‘Good evening is hardly fancy.’
‘You think you can come here, with your fancy ways, and look down on us, like we’re nothing.’ The man walked forward, until he was just a couple of feet from Cavour. His eyes seemed unable to remain still, flicking from here to there.
‘Forgive me if I have unwittingly caused offence. It was never my intention. I will bid you goodnight and be off to my bed.’
‘Will you now?’ The man suddenly reached for him.
Cavour jumped back, trying to pull out his sword, but the man was on him, and there was a knife in his hand.
Cavour fell, with the man across him, jabbing away with knife, but mostly missing.
Cavour got a good hold on his attacker’s knife hand and pushed it away from his body.
‘What…!’ He pressed his other hand under the man’s chin and began to push.
The stranger’s knee jabbed at his groin, but most of the impact was absorbed by the ground.
‘Will you just…’ snapped Cavour, twisting his body and straining against his solid opponent.
Then there was a sudden movement in the shadows and Cavour found himself free. The poor man was thrown across the alley and came to an abrupt halt against the far wall.
‘So, Cavour, pleased to see me?’
Cavour stared up at the gaunt face high above him for a moment before he dropped his head back and sighed.
‘Crawlord Elstar. I suppose I should thank you for your assistance?’
Elstar laughed. ‘Hardly, considering that I set him upon you in the first place.’
He reached down and pulled Cavour to his feet.
‘He was useful to me, as he found you for me, but he was ugly, and did you get a chance to smell him? I’m sure the last time he was bathed was as a child in his mother’s arms.’
He kept a firm grip on Cavour’s arm as he spoke, and he pulled him a little closer to him than the man would have liked if he’d had any choice in the matter.
‘How is your leg? Is it well healed? I looked for you in the forest.’
‘Ay, Crawlord, it was mended for me.’
‘Shall we converse here on the street? Or would you prefer to move along to yonder tavern?’
‘Do we have much to talk about?’
Elstar laughed again and gave him a bit of a shake.
‘I believe we do, Cavour, I believe we do.’
‘Then a drink will help, I’d say.’
They walked together to the tavern a little way further down the narrow street.
‘A little rough and ready, I’d say,’ said Elstar as he scanned the smoky barroom, ‘but it will do.’
With full tankard of ale before them, and Elstar sitting opposite Cavour, they sat in silence for a moment.
‘What do you want with me?’ said Cavour, just to get things moving along.
Elstar smiled, his tight lips peeling back to reveal sharp teeth.
‘You know, Cavour. You know.’
Cavour picked up his tankard to give himself time to think. Of course he knew exactly what the crawlord wanted with him. In the forest, they’d spoken of Fairisle and its possible Stone, and he’d offered the possibility of another Stone, in an undisclosed place.
He didn’t want the crawlord anywhere near Fairisle, in case he would interfere with Ellaine’s plans. Whatever evil there was on the island, it surely had access to a Wellstone, and Elstar would do everything he could to lay his hand on it, even if it meant giving aid to the evil force.
Somehow, he had to dissuade him from that course.
‘Of course you want a Wellstone,’ he said, slowly, as he didn’t have a good idea yet of what he was about to say.
‘Well done, little man. You have some sort of memory of our discussion then. Now, listen to me, and no nonsense from you. We both know there is a Stone on Fairlisle, but, for now at least, that is closed to me. I will not…I will not put myself through that, not whilst there are other options.’
Cavour’s relief at having the Fairisle option removed swiftly leaked away as he saw that he would have to come up with an alternative.
Whilst he’d scoured the land for hints about the whereabouts of possible Wellstone, there had been rumours of other Stones, but none had seemed of any great value to him at the time.
Now, mayhap some value could be found.
He drained his tankard and wiped his mouth his sleeve. Without meeting the Crawlord’s eyes he rummaged in his bag for his pipe.
‘There are several…possibilities, shall we say,’ he began, as he filled his pipe with his favourite pipeweed, ‘but none so firm as Misthaven and Fairisle.’
Elstar watched his lips move, his attention focussed on the man.
‘Having said that.’ He sucked his pipe for a moment before continuing. ‘Having said that, there is a…well, I’d call it number three on the list. It’s some way from here, but a determined seeker could be there within a week or so, I’d say.’
‘Where is this place?’ Elstar leaned forward, his drink forgotten.
‘Have you heard of Langlang?’
‘Langlang? No, not at all. Where is this place?’
‘If we leave Hesselton by the east gate, and travel for a couple or three days along the coast road, we’ll come to a steep valley. We pass through there, and climb into the Eastern Mountains. That will be a hard few days of walking, I’d say.’
‘And?’
‘Shall we have another drink?’
‘Tell me first.’
‘Begging your pardon, your Crawlordship, but if I tell all now, how safe am I, sitting here before you?’
‘You have my word as a crawlord.’
‘Ay, for all the good that would do me.’ Cavour wondered for a second if the crawlord was aware of what had happened to his people, over there on Fairilse. He guessed that he was ignorant of the genocide.