by Avril Sabine
Fen reached out for a slice of the roasted meat but stopped. He knew what he had to do. And more than likely he’d be retching on the doorstep of Rhone’s place after it. He didn’t want to waste good food. The dragon looked up at him, a question in his eyes. Fen sighed. Yet again.
“I’ve business to tend to. I’m not leaving you, but it might take me a while to get back. I’ll lay a fire for you before I go. You hide if anyone but Ed comes, you hear?”
The dragon looked at Fen steadily.
“It’d be easier if you could speak. And you need a name too. Do you have one?”
A large body of water appeared in Fen’s mind.
“Sea?”
The large body of water narrowed.
“Stream?”
A rush of frustration hit Fen and he almost stumbled backwards. The body of water widened.
“River?”
Approval.
“Like I said. It’d be easier if you could talk. Where did your name come from?”
Fen saw a mother dragon lean over an egg, breathing hot air onto it. She appeared to speak to it and then moved to the next egg. This was the clearest image yet. He could hardly believe he was communicating with a dragon.
“Your ma?”
Approval again.
Fen grinned. “Looks like I might be getting the hang of this. Anything else you like to eat besides slop?”
A tumble of food ran through Fen’s mind. Meats of all kinds, fish, eggs, bread, milk, and many other dishes he didn’t recognise.
“Fair enough. Now remember, River, stay here. Don’t show yourself to anyone. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Fen hurried outside and collected kindling and firewood. He laid a fire and lit it with the flint and steel on the mantle then pulled out the blood oath and handkerchief and fed them to the flames. The moment they were consumed he felt no better. There was still the problem of Rhone. Just as bad as a blood oath. He gave River a pat on the head before he went outside.
There was a thin streak of light in the sky. “Rhone’s going to be madder than a swamp dragon.” He stared at the sky a moment longer before he strode towards the gate, ignoring the ache in his legs that matched the one in his arms.
Chapter Five
Fen paused outside the building that had been his home for most of his life. Like the two storey buildings pressed up against each side of it, what little paint was left on it hung in flakes and all the windows on the ground floor were boarded up to keep other thieves out. The upper level had some gaping holes where shutters had once hung, several boarded up windows and one window where a lone shutter swung in the breeze. Fen barely gave those details a glance. Instead, his eyes focused on the door. An inexpertly painted bright red door, a warning to all that they entered at their own risk.
Fen forced himself up the three rickety steps towards the door. He was surprised to see his hand trembled as he reached out to open it. The door was ripped from his grasp before it was barely open and hands gripped his shoulders to pull him roughly inside and shake him. He stared up into Rhone’s fierce green eyes. The man had reddish brown hair, a crooked nose and a few teeth missing. In his other hand he carried the dreaded walking cane, which was pressed against Fen’s arm. He didn’t need it for walking. It was used as a tool to keep his orphans in line.
“Where’ve you been? Should’ve been back hours ago. Can’t you see it’s bloody daylight? And where’s my parcel?” Each question ended with a shake.
“There was someone in there,” Fen whined.
“Someone? The guards never stay more than they have to. Not on a night like that. Tell me what happened. You fell asleep, didn’t you?”
“No! Soon as the guards went someone shorter went in. I stayed as long as I could. They didn’t leave. Not till the guards returned. Then I thought I could go in, but they came back. I don’t know what they were doing, but they mustn’t have wanted the guards to see them either,” Fen said in a rush.
“You lying to me boy?” Rhone growled and shook Fen until he thought his teeth would rattle out of his head.
“N… no,” Fen managed to stutter.
Rhone dropped him suddenly and Fen landed in a heap on the floor. He lay still, his cheek resting against the scarred floorboards. He waited for what was to come. Waited as Rhone stood above him, eyes narrowed, anger radiating from him. He tensed then forced himself to relax as he saw Rhone move.
“Get out of my sight.” Rhone punctuated each word with a kick or swing of his walking stick.
Fen tried to scrabble across the floor. “It wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t help it.”
“You useless damn cur,” Rhone roared.
Fen desperately tried not to cry out as the walking stick hit his cheekbone. It felt like a thousand stars exploded in front of him. The world went slightly grey around the edges.
“One simple job. Walk in. Walk out. Nothing to it.” The walking stick thudded at each word.
Fen tried to stumble to his feet but the stick struck his knee and knocked it out from under him. “I tried-”
“No excuses. None! You’re a failure.” This time Rhone used his boot.
“Please Rhone. I’ll do better next time. Give me another chance.” Fen’s breath came in gasps. He ducked his head in time. His arm took the force of the stick. He thought he heard something crack but his body was in so much pain it was hard to tell. Next it was the boot. “Please.” He glanced up, the room spinning with a sickening motion, Rhone standing out starkly as the hole marked walls and the staircase leading to the upper levels shimmered behind him.
“Please. A chance? Never! Do you know how long it took me to set it up? Do you have any idea the money I spent?” Rhone’s roar echoed through the place, each word punctuated by another strike. “I could’ve retired on the money that dragon would’ve made me.”
Fen looked up through one eye, the other rapidly swelling shut. He tasted blood on his lips and tried to suck it off. Even with his mind half numb with pain his first thought was not to leave blood behind. You didn’t forget lessons learned with the help of the walking stick. “Don’t throw me out.” Fen’s voice was little more than a whisper.
“That frightens you, does it?”
“I got nowhere to go.”
“Good!” Rhone swung the front door open and with a forceful shove of his boot, Fen was pushed out the door to tumble down the steps.
The door slammed shut. The sound echoed in Fen’s ears, blending with the ringing already in them. His face rested against the broken and uneven cobblestones and he tried to move. A wave of pain rushed over him as he stumbled to his feet. Dizziness made his vision blur and he staggered. He clung to the splintered wood of the fence, the pain making him gag. There was nothing in his stomach to throw up and soon the retching sounds stopped. Using the fence for support, Fen stumbled down the road.
He knew he had to find somewhere to hole up. The last thing he needed was to be picked up by the town guard, but he couldn’t stay in this area. The street gangs watched Rhone’s place. The rags he wore and his woollen cap mightn’t seem like much, but they were more than some gang members owned. Besides, he knew people who’d been killed for less. Killed because they were easy pickings and it was better to get rid of competition before they became a problem.
Fen spied a familiar alley. He knew it was pointless to look around and see if anyone saw him enter. His vision was too blurred. He had to hope he was in luck. He was glad he’d been with Rhone long enough to know what to say to make him cut him loose. And to cut him loose before he’d beaten him to death. It had still been a gamble. Rhone had his unpredictable moments.
Fen stumbled into some garbage cans and fell to the ground. The sudden sharp pain in his chest made him hold his breath. Broken ribs too, Fen thought as he crawled behind the cans. He huddled against the wall and wished he had the heat stone with him. The stone wall behind him felt like ice.
That was his last thought until a cat jumped onto the can in front of side him hours lat
er, jarring him to consciousness. The sudden movement caused him to clench his teeth with pain. He gasped when his jaw ached from the action. He tried to push himself off the ground but found his left arm had been broken and wouldn’t work properly. Using his right, he staggered to his feet. The cat snarled at him when he stumbled into the garbage can and Fen hissed back. Even that seemed to take too much effort.
Fen tried to listen to what was happening around him as he swayed down the alley, but one of his ears still rang. Blind and deaf, he thought. May the gods of Kalla watch over me.
Several twists and turns through alleys and backstreets and Fen found a better place to hole up. Or at least he hoped so. It was hard to see and hear if anyone was around.
This time it was a group of young men as they joked and laughed their way to a tavern that woke Fen. He tried to see where they were but couldn’t see a thing.
Night, Fen thought with relief. Or I’ve gone completely blind.
Fen didn’t recall his walk back to River. It was a blur of pain. When he staggered in the front door, he checked River was still by the fireplace where he’d left him. The fire had died out, but Fen couldn’t do anything about it. Much of the food he’d taken from the backpack had been eaten, but the thought of food made him want to gag. He gently lowered himself to the floor beside River.
Waves of concern rushed through his mind as the dragon looked at him.
“I’ll live. Had worse.” Fen curled up, sinking into an exhausted sleep.
River snuggled in close to Fen and his heat warmed Fen’s cold limbs. As the warmth seeped through him, he relaxed more and his sleep deepened.
Chapter Six
Edana dismounted and tied her horse out the front of the cottage. She knocked at the front door and frowned when no one answered. Cautiously opening the front door, she peered inside. Her heart sank and fear rushed through her at the sight of Fen curled up by the fireplace, the dragon at his back.
“What happened?” Edana ran to his side and crouched by him, hesitantly reaching out to him.
Fen looked blearily up at her. “Not much,” he croaked.
“Who did this? My father didn’t find you? No. That can’t be possible, the dragon would be gone.” Edana stared at the dragon. What had happened?
“Rhone. River.”
“What?”
“Rhone did this. Dragon called River.” Fen closed his eyes again. “Need sleep.”
“Rhone came here? He found you?” Edana glanced around, trying to hold back the fear that threatened to swamp her. “We have to leave.” She gently touched his shoulder. “Fen.” The fear turned to panic when he didn’t answer. “Fen? Don’t die on me.” She held a hand near his nose to feel for his breath.
Fen opened one eye up a fraction. The one that wasn’t swollen closed.
“Oh, thank the gods.” She felt light headed with relief. “Why won’t you talk? Tell me what happened. Was Rhone here?”
Edana felt butterfly wings as the dragon brushed against her mind. Then she saw water. Edana turned to River, trying to figure out what he wanted. Suddenly the picture turned to water in a cup.
“Oh, yes, of course. A drink of water. But what about Rhone?” She felt a wave of reassurance from the dragon. “I hope that means I don’t have to worry about him.” She rose to her feet and headed for the kitchen door.
“Edana, no,” Fen croaked.
“What?” Edana called back.
“Stop her, River.”
River uncurled himself and hurried across the room to sit in front of the kitchen door.
“Come on, River. No games.” Edana’s hands went to her hips as River tried to herd her away from the door. “You’re the one who told me to get him a drink.” She looked over to Fen. “Why can’t I go in the kitchen?” He didn’t answer her. “Fen?” When River nudged her again her arms dropped to her sides. Was that it? Was River trying to get her to check Fen? She stared at him. He lay completely still. She ran across the room and knelt beside him. “Fen? You didn’t die this time, did you?” She held her breath. “Fen?”
He groaned and opened an eye. “Don’t go in the kitchen.”
“Fen.” She couldn’t keep the worry from her voice.
“I’ll live.”
“Do you want water? There should be a well out the back. I have to get a cup or jug from the kitchen. I can’t carry it in nothing.”
“Not the kitchen. Promise.” His words were laboured.
Edana sighed. “Calm down. I won’t go in there. But what am I supposed to use?”
The silence stretched out. Eyes still closed, Fen whispered, “Desk. Shelf. Shell.”
“And that makes a great deal of sense,” Edana muttered as she rose to her feet and looked towards the desk, her gaze travelling to the shelf. Seeing the shell, she muttered about impossible tasks. She picked it up to find it was about the size of her cupped hand. “This’ll take me all day.” She stalked out the front door and around the side of the house.
She found the well out the back and lowered the bucket that was tied to the open well with a rope. Once she hauled up the full bucket, she tried to untie the rope. It was frayed and matted at both ends. Impossible. If she cut the rope, it might be too short to draw up water when it was tied back on.
“There goes that idea.” She rinsed off the shell and dipped it into the bucket.
Fen lay as still as he’d been earlier and Edana held her breath as she moved closer. “Do you want some water?”
Fen opened his mouth and Edana dripped water from the shell. She stopped when his mouth started to close.
“This isn’t going to work. I don’t know how you managed to get back here. I don’t know how you’re still alive. What can I do, Fen? I can’t leave you here like this. And how did Rhone get you?”
“Had to go back. Couldn’t have… looking for me… find River. Water?”
Edana dripped more water into his mouth as he opened it. “That’s it! I have to do something about this. Wait here. I won’t be too long.”
“Do I look like… going anywhere?”
Edana smiled. She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. This was more than she’d ever had to cope with. “I guess not.” She turned to River who’d curled up beside Fen again. “Do you need anything before I go?” River continued to look at her. “I guess that’s a no.” She rose to her feet and shook her head. “I can’t believe you did this.” She stared at him a moment longer. “You’re crazy.” She would never have been able to bring herself to do the same. Her eyes were drawn to the bruises and swelling. He needed a healer. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
When Fen remained silent, Edana hurried outside, mounted her horse and turned towards home. She kicked her horse into a gallop. Her mind filled with plans.
Her first stop was her room where she gathered items and shoved them in a colourful cloth bag. Next was the kitchen where the cook prepared saddlebags with a picnic lunch for her and a friend. She returned to the stables where her horse waited for her and mounting, she rode for a secluded stand of trees outside the town. She pulled on a dark cloak with a hood and attached a veil, like those worn by the recently widowed, pulled a pouch of coins from her bag and tied it to her belt. Another pouch of coins was tucked into her boots. It was a bad idea to leave all your money in one place. The belt pouch she’d used to put Fen’s blood oath in belonged to her father. She’d never dare borrow it during the day when he might have need of it.
“That crazy, crazy boy,” Edana muttered, as she made sure her horse was securely tied. The mare was too well known to ride her into town. There was no point in disguising herself to be revealed by her horse, a chestnut with a blaze and four perfectly matched white socks.
Edana stroked the horse’s nose. “I won’t be too long, girl.”
She walked into town towards the home of a healer wizard she’d heard of. One who didn’t look closely into the reason she was needed. Edana stood at the front door and butterflies the size of hawks swoop
ed inside her stomach. She thought again of how Fen had looked, one eye so swollen he could barely open it, bruises everywhere, a split and bruised lip covered with dried blood and who knew how many other injuries she’d not been able to see. She’d never seen anyone look like him. He’d seemed barely alive. And he’d sought that beating. Sought it so Rhone didn’t come after River. She almost felt ashamed she’d asked him to take the dragon. Almost. River would live. She hoped.
She steeled her courage and reminded herself Fen had probably faced his beating with less fuss. Edana knocked firmly on the door. She waited as minutes passed and knocked again. About to leave, she heard footsteps on the other side of the door.
“Who calls?”
“I need a healer wizard.” Edana spoke to the still closed door.
“When?”
“Urgently.”
“For you?”
“No. My friend is too injured to travel. I can pay well.”
The door swung open to show a white haired woman. Her skinny body was dressed in severe black and her lips were pursed as if she was annoyed by the interruption. “I hope I don’t have to travel far. And I need to see your coins first.”
“I have a horse outside town, but I’ll need to blindfold you once we leave town. I want you to be able to say you didn’t know where you went or who you treated.”
“It’ll cost you more. Come in.” The woman stepped back so Edana could enter. “Do you have a name for me to call you by or are you another Jane?”
“Yileen.” Edana used her name that was the most common in the area.
The woman smiled. “A little more original. I’m Daria.” The door closed. “Let me see your gold.”