by Philip Smith
“Headache subsided at all?” she asked in a soft, silvery voice. Paige shook her head, grimacing with the movement.
“Here, then,” the girl continued in a clear, kind voice. “Try this. What it lacks in culinary flavor it makes up for in pain management.”
She lifted a wooden spoon brimming with a thick, red substance. The girl helped Paige raise her aching head to sip the syrup. As she swallowed the liquid, Paige sputtered at the bitter taste, yet the pounding of her head waned as she lowered herself back onto the bed.
“That is…so nasty,” she coughed.
“I know, sometimes I’d rather endure the pain,” the young woman smiled.
“Thank you,” Paige whispered quietly. “You have no idea how much that helps.” The girl examined her with gentle eyes.
“I can imagine.”
Paige leaned up on her elbow to get a better view, surveying the small room that held her. Though made of stone and wood like the longhouse she’d been held in earlier, it was much smaller, probably meant for a single family as opposed to several. Through the foggy haze of her splitting headache, she could make out a large oak door hung on a strong frame on the wall to her left, and in the far left corner a tiny stone fireplace crackled, giving off a fair amount of heat in the small room. A single lamp sat on a small table near the bed, but aside from this the room appeared to be bare.
“Where am I? Who are you? Where are my friends?” she asked, worry lacing her words.
“Shhh, easy now. You’re safe, and your friends are still about. You are in the house of Hanburg Feldjorn, Councilman of the Bear clan. I am his daughter, Abenya,” she replied, placing a new cloth on Paige’s forehead.
“What am I doing here?”
“My father bought your freedom from the tribe. Father said that dark-haired creature asked that you be brought here. So here you are, none the worse for wear!”
“I feel much ‘the worse for wear,’ I dare say,” Paige groaned.
“Well, you’ll have some bruised ribs, but I don’t think they broke any bones. You were lucky the pale one shielded you when he did; otherwise you would’ve had several fractures.”
Dinendale. He had shielded her. Abenya was right. Their strikes would have mutilated her if not for him. Paige smiled feebly. Although her head seemed to improve by the minute, her ribs felt as if they were alive with bolts of painful lightning. Even still, she knew it would have been much worse. She’d have to thank Dinendale for that one.
“Where is he now?” Paige asked. “Dinendale? And the others?”
Abenya’s smile vanished. Hesitantly, she dipped the cloth back into the bowl again before placing it back on Paige’s forehead. Paige’s heartbeat quickened.
“Are they… dead?”
Abenya’s head bobbed up. “Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “They’re most definitely alive. It’s just… they have more complicated situations at present.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, without getting into the political nuances and blatherings, they are essentially sold to other members of the clan.”
“Slaves!?”
Abenya nodded. “It was the only way Father could think to buy you some time,” she reassured. “The earl is sending an envoy to Kapernaum to check out your story. Till that is done, the earl will not pass judgment. Rather than house you all in a jail, the people put you all up for auction as servants to work for room and board till the envoy can come back.”
“We… we don’t have time for that!” Paige blurted, jumping up. Just as quickly she laid back down as pain shot through her abdomen and robbed her of any strength. She felt her heart sinking into the pit of her stomach. After only a few days of lost travel, Olivian would be well on her way while Paige remained trapped in a barbaric place with no escape. A desperate tear slid down her cheek. Abenya patted Paige’s arm reassuringly.
“I know that. And my father does as well. This way, there’s more of a chance for you to escape. I know he will find a way for you to leave. We just need a few days.”
“A few days is too long! It will be too late!”
Paige let the tears that had been brimming in her eyes trickle down her face into her ears. She took a deep, shaky breath, looking into Abenya’s confused eyes.
“It’s my sister. The same men who killed your boy took my sister, and if we can’t get to them before they reach Aschin, we may never get her out.”
Abenya looked heartbroken for her. Paige sniffed as she heard the sound of a door opening outside their room in the main area of the hut. The latch on the entryway clicked, and the door to the room slowly swung inward.
“Father!” Abenya hopped up from her chair as a large man with a ruddy red beard swaggered into the room. She embraced him, and he gave her a huge bear hug in return, chuckling softly.
“Abi, my sweet,” he said warmly. “Have you been taking good care of our honored guest?”
“Yes, Da,” she said sweetly. “The poor thing has been fretting. I told her you have a plan to make it all better. You do have a plan, don’t you?”
Abenya’s father walked over to Paige’s bedside and took the princess’s small hand in his giant palms, patting it reassuringly. Paige swallowed the lump in her throat. Papa had done that exact thing when she’d fallen ill growing up.
“My dear, we will do everything we can to make sure you are on your way as soon as possible.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Paige gulped, trying to be polite. The man wagged a sausage shaped finger in her face with a tsk-tsk.
“There will be no more of that nonsense,” he commanded. “It is ‘Hanburg’ to you, my dear, for we are equals. Soon enough I’ll see you and your friends restored as such.”
“Da, she said that band that killed Yarvidt was the same group that took her sister,” Abenya offered. Hanburg’s expression was one of worry and concern as he looked down at Paige.
“My dear, I am so sorry. I do not doubt for one moment you are all telling the truth, but my kinsmen seem to not want to take heed of my counsel.”
“You must get them to let us go!” Paige pleaded. “Please!”
“They will never agree,” the man sighed, stroking his beard and twisting a tuft of it around his finger. “Not now that they’ve invested money in you all. No, I think we have but one recourse.”
“And that is?”
“Escape, naturally!”
Paige pressed her lips together in fear and skepticism.
“You think it’s possible with everyone sold off as slaves?”
“It is possible,” Hanburg said. “It will take a good deal of planning. At any rate, it’s far more likely that they can escape as they are now than if you were all under lock and key in the jail.”
Paige forced herself to sit up in the bed, Abenya rushing to her aid to help steady her. Paige grimaced as the ache in her ribs kicked up again, but she bit her tongue to keep from crying out. She would have to muscle her way through this if she was going to save both her friends and then Olivian; this was no time to take a rest when so much was at stake.
“Why is that vile man so intent upon seeing us executed,” Paige demanded, taking a mug of water that Abenya offered her. Hanburg scowled.
“You mean Locamnen?”
“Is that the man with a vulture’s face?”
Abenya giggled and Hanburg let out a snort of a chuckle, scratching his ruddy nose.
“Aye, that would be Locamnen. He used to be a healer among our people, but he got caught swindling a family of their silver for a ‘potion’ that was apparently nothing more than charcoal dust and honey. He’s been in a low standing with most in the tribe since then.”
“Then why do so many people seem to listen to him?”
“He pays off many influential men and families. Gold is a favorite motivator around here. It did not used to be that way. We used to be a proud people, but our earl is old and has no heir, so the men go where the coin points them. It’s a miracle we’ve been able to r
etain any kind of law and order in the village for the last three years, let alone this afternoon.”
“So we’re stuck here because Locamnen wants to get paid?”
“If he had one, he would sell his own mother if it meant picking up a few bartering bars of silver,” the heavy-set man laughed. He slapped his knee and stood.
“Now, you rest up, my dear. I’ll get some supper going, and we shall begin making our plans. I think I know how we can get your lot out of here within the week.”
“A week!?”
Hanburg smiled apologetically.
“I know it isn’t exactly the timeframe you wanted, but we have to do this carefully or not at all if we’re going to get you out of here.”
Paige sighed. “If that’s the best we can do, then we best get to work.”
“Brilliant,” Hanburg nodded. He opened the creaky old door and bowed to the girls. Then he stepped outside and left them alone once again.
The two girls sat in silence for a beat. Paige attempted to enjoy the quiet moments of peace for what they were. She tried not to dwell on the knot that had seated itself comfortably in the pit of her stomach. Paige guessed would probably stay there until they were free from this horrific delay they couldn’t afford. But it was so difficult to clear her mind, especially when she couldn’t be with the Brotherhood.
“Don’t worry, dear,” Abenya tried to comfort her, standing and walking over to the small stone fireplace in the corner. She tossed a few bits of wood onto the heap of coals and stoked the flames back to a healthy, cheery brightness. Paige watched as they licked the wood and cackled with the delight of a new meal.
“Where is all my stuff?” Paige asked, undoing her tangled braid. “I need my hairpin. It’s very dear to me.”
“All of that has been locked up in the grain storehouses, I think,” she said, dusting the ash off her hands and standing up. “By the law, they cannot parcel it out until you are all convicted, although I’m sorry to say some of the warriors placed to guard them are not above a bribe if someone wanted to help themselves.”
“How dreadful,” Paige muttered, touching her locket. She could still feel the leather scroll bound against her thigh. Her mother’s sword might be lost, but at least her father’s secrets were still in tact. She whispered a quick prayer to the Creator, thanking him for her good fortune before returning her thoughts to the task at hand. She played back the morning’s events in her head and was struck with a question for which she had no answer.
“Abenya?”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever seen a man with silver eyes?”
Abenya turned and looked at Paige, her eyes screwed up in confusion.
“Silver eyes?”
“Yes. Clear, and they shone like diamonds in the moonlight.”
“Uh, no. I can’t say I’ve ever come across anyone who had eyes like that. I’m sure I’d remember it.”
Paige screwed her face in confusion and frustration. Who was the man who had come to her in the long house then? What had he meant when he said she had friends, even in this dark place? And aside from that, how on earth were they going to all get free without waiting for the envoy to get back? There were so many pieces of the puzzle pounding against her head that she kneaded her temples in concentration.
“Don’t worry,” Abenya reassured. “Da will have a plan.”
“He’d better think up something fast,” Paige said, voice quivering slightly. “We had no time to lose, and that was yesterday.”
As if on cue, the door burst open with a resounding CRASH. Both girls jumped to see Hanburg once again in the doorway, red hair splayed out wildly, eyes gleaming with the reflection of the grin he sported.
“Girls, come to the table quickly! I think I may have a plan!”
Chapter 9
All This For a Loaf of bread?
Sweat poured down Robert’s back and dripped below his waist, seeping into his suede belt. The sun beat down on his head as if its sole purpose in rising that morning had been to make him miserable. Twostaves was tethered to his side, breathing heavy in the muggy forenoon sun. They had been bought at the auction block by a wheat farmer as laborers because of their size and obvious strength. One of his oxen had drowned the week before, so he simply strapped the two large fellows together and set them out to till the field for a second planting of autumn wheat.
Silent rage burned deep within Robert’s chest. These people were repugnant in their treatment of those different than themselves, and it made his distaste for mankind grow ever more bitter in his heart. Still, he worked on because he could do nothing else. His legs and arms bore iron chains. A solid brass collar was locked around his neck, weighing his head low. His back ached with every movement, and despite the cool autumn breeze, sweat dripped from his face and stung his eyes. Twostaves fared no better.
“Hurry it up, yeh good-for-nothings!” yowled the driver of the small plow. The burly man with oily black hair and a pock-marked face lashed them with a horse-hair whip, cracking on their threadbare shirts. Robert winced but didn’t cry out.
“If I weren’t bound…,” he muttered.
Twostaves looked over with a half-smile. “Look at the bright side!”
“There is no bright side, Twostaves. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a moron.”
“Excuse me for trying to make the best of it. There’s usually something you can take away from any scenario that is positive in some way.”
“There is. I’m positive now that you are a moron.”
“Well, think about this—you don’t have to wear that humiliating robe anymore!”
“Don’t even give me that! I was waiting to get to the traders for some new trousers. It was all I had lying around at home for the season.”
“Living in that little hole sure made you lazy.”
“At least I learned how to be lazy. You can’t learn stupid.”
“Okay, I have had just about ENOUGH of you, tiny mouth-breather!” Twostaves roared, pulling himself up to his full height, which was a whole head and a half taller than Robert. This pulled Robert up onto his tiptoes.
“Nice to know you watch me in my sleep.” He smirked. A loud CRACK sounded behind them as the farmer snapped Twostaves in between the shoulders. The giant growled, glaring back at the man.
“We should just break his neck and be done with it,” Robert hissed as they set back to pulling.
“We’ll think of something, but we can’t just bail on the others. They might kill the rest of them if some of us go missing.”
“We’d better hope someone in there is coming up with a plan, then,” Robert murmured, “because I don’t know how much more of this I’m going to tolerate.”
◆◆◆
Dinendale rose, wiping his sweaty, coal-dusted forehead on his ragged cotton shirt. The iron shackles exacerbated the ache in his arms. At the auction block three days ago, he’d been the first of the Brotherhood to be sold. Bought by a filthy bear of a man with matted brown hair and tobacco-stained teeth, Dinendale had at first been relieved to find he would be working in a blacksmith’s shop. He had always loved working with metal and was a decent smith. But the smith owning him now had him shoveling coal for the great furnace and manning the forge’s massive bellows. Now his muscles shrieked in protest with each pump of air that whooshed into the coal-burning chamber.
Despite his altered circumstances, Dinendale was grateful to be at the smithy, considering the fates of his companions. Paige was safe at present, although Dinendale still worried about Locamnen and his apparent blind ambition and hatred for the man called Hanburg. He’d seen an evil look in the cur’s eyes when Paige had been hauled into the room.
As for the others, Dinendale had heard that Twostaves and Robert were working in the fields while Jesnake had been bought by the miller to thresh grain. The last Dinendale had heard, Duelmaster was working for the village bakery; the dark elf was still trying to figure that one out. One of the council members had picked up Broad
side as an entertaining dancing dwarf. If it hadn’t attested to the humans’ naïveté concerning dwarves, it would have been the funniest thing Dinendale had ever seen. Anyone with sense or even an inkling of knowledge of the other races would have chosen the dwarf to work in the forge, for a black dwarf’s craftsmanship surpassed that of any man, and could have brought the smith great wealth. But humans craved novelties, and, much to Broadside’s misfortune, he drew the short straw.