by B J Hanlon
She hadn’t eaten in days. Thinking about it, neither had Edin. He set her on the couch and went back to grab some jars of food, their packs and the rum. As he was about to leave the boat, he noticed the diary. Edin snatched it on impulse and went back into the lighthouse.
He left Arianne on the couch and went back outside again. The boat was a beacon that pointed out that intruders were in the lighthouse the same way this tower told of the shore.
Anyone who saw it would know someone was holing up here. That was something he didn’t want.
After only moments of deliberation, Edin untied the ship and used his powers to push it far into the sea. He knew it was their only way out if hostility came but had no choice.
Edin sat at the table and pulled out the small journal.
‘We travelled east along the cliffs. Large boulders littered the ocean nearest the shore. They were broken and scattered from years of the ocean’s battering. I could see few trees high above, but mostly there was nothing but death. Even the ocean was the face of the bleakness of a dying world. It was like a nightmare. The sellswords excitement switched between a giddiness of a child and the seriousness of a magister making judgment. The cap’n still ain’t tell us what we we’re here for. We all know there was no fishing, and the cap’n finally confessed we were after some ruins that would make us all a lot of coin. We’ll see.’
Ruins? But where?
‘We sail on. Cliffs hang over us like the headsman’s axe. The coast of this cold world is jagged. Whales, larger than I’ve ever seen broke the surface and spewed ocean spray hundreds of feet into the air. It caused quite a panic amongst the sellswords, but the cap’n calmed ‘em.
We continued on until we see it. A single cliff with a crumbling ruin high above us. A half a tower. The cap’n and the leader of the sellswords, Rihkar, huddled in the cabin as we anchored off shore. At high tide, we’re going to take the sellswords to the rocks in the skiff. I don’t know what they’re after, but it’s not the first time I’ve been questioning the cap’n’s judgment.’
Edin paused and ran his finger over the name of the sellsword. Rihkar. It was a common enough name and could be anyone. It did remind him that he may still have a father out there. He glanced at Arianne, she had no one but him.
Edin began reading again. ‘The sellswords been climbing the cliffs for two hours now. They’re strength and endurance are beyond me. Rihkar is almost to the pinnacle, his men are just below him. The cap’n keeps pacing in the cabin and glancing up. Around us, have been oddities. Large tree limbs appearing next to the ship… at least that’s what the cap’n says, though they look more like tentacles. We hear a rustling and crunching sound of something rubbing the hull. I’ve taken to the rum, my first night watch is in short order. There are bad feelings in this place.’
‘We had no choice, we had to sail off and leave the sellswords. The gods of the earth roared and sent boulders the size of my apartment to the sea below. Huge waves rocked us and we spotted a giant monster breach the surface. Its head raising, offering only a single large eye. It was the size of a wagon.
Cap’n’s words of great treasure in the keep, old scrolls, weapons, and other artifacts from before the fall of the kingdom, means nothing if we’re dead. There was no sign of the sellswords or their booty. Despite our pressure, the cap’n wouldn’t agree, even when a wave crashed over the aft side of the vessel nearly battering us on jagged boulders. There’d been no decision, cap’n had to go. May the gods watch over him, over us, and over the sellswords as I do not know how they’ll return. No ship sails here. A place the sellsword called the Ocaricson Fjords. For my own memory, I will see the gapping maw of the beast in my nightmares.’
There were more entries, some filled with regret for leaving the sellswords, and the mutiny, others with hope of returning home to see family. He closed it and thought about a tower on a bluff. Ancient artifacts, an abandoned structure, huge beasts in the sea. This man had an adventure, though he wasn’t strong enough to see it through.
Edin thought about his own. Was he strong enough? Could he get Arianne out of this unending sleep?
He looked at Arianne. Still asleep, he hoped. She was looking as serene as a fat fuzzy cat in warm sunshine. His left leg tingled; it too was asleep. He stood and stretched before making it back to the small window that overlooked the treelined landscape.
He’d seen the town, a mile or so through the forest and he knew he could be going there and trying to find a healer for her… But he couldn’t just leave her and he couldn’t carry her. What about when whoever ran this place returned?
The last thought reminded Edin he was trespassing… and a hunted man. He searched quickly, knowing that as the sun continued its descent, the likelihood of a visitor would grow. He moved to a door that was half hidden in shadows near the kitchenette. He opened it and was met with a broom closet barely four feet square. Good enough, he thought.
Unless the proprietor desperately wanted to give the place a vicious scrubbing, that was doubtful, they’d be fine.
Edin went toward the window and looked out. The sun tickled through the forest with a fierceness, poking out just above the trees and making it impossible to see the road. He scooped up Arianne and brought her to the closet, setting her down like a doll inside.
He checked her pulse, barely ten beats a minute. She needed someone and soon. A few moments later, he heard a noise outside. A creaking of feet on steps.
With barely a moment to spare he slid inside and started to close the door. He wanted to—needed to—see who was coming in.
Two people entered. A boy with a torch and a man, grizzled with thick arms carrying two large jugs. He watched them make their way to the stairs and disappear beyond sight. He heard the footsteps pounding up the creaky stairs and then stop for about five minutes.
Then they were descending lazily. Their feet clomping back down like people tired but glad to be done with their task.
Edin waited as they came into view.
The man stopped and stared at something. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and bent down. In a moment, the boy sprinted out of the lighthouse, the patter of his feet fading in the distance.
What? Then it hit him, the gear. Their packs, Arianne’s bow, staff, and arrows. They were all sitting out.
His heart raced as he drew his sword. The man had a kid and was just doing his job. But Arianne needed help. She was more important to him, she counted on him. He was about to push the door open when the man spoke. His eyes clearly on the small crack that hid Edin.
“This here lighthouse has been here for more than a thousand years. Tradition states we offer one night of shelter to vagabonds. If you’re highway men, apply your trade elsewhere. If you’re still here tomorrow, I summon the guard.”
Edin was quiet.
“Understand?”
He paused, glanced down at Arianne, he couldn’t see her in the black room but he felt her presence.
“Yes,” Edin called.
With that the man turned and left.
Edin opened the door. He helped her back to the couch and sat at the table. The thought occurred to him that he’d been thinking about murdering a man who’d just offered him hospitality. Edin’s head began to pound as he dropped it to the table with a smack.
He absently pulled the stopper on the rum bottle and held the warm glass in his hand. What was he thinking? What was happening to him? “I was a good man…” he said absently.
Then he thought about something from a book or somewhere. It simply read, ‘He was a man. People didn’t have to be good or bad, who was to say who was actually good or bad anyway? Is it him? Is it you?’
Edin thought about himself. How many people had he killed who were actually evil? Any of them? Certainly not all of them. The odds of that were enormous.
“Edin?” Her voice came croaking and scratchy. It took barely a moment for him to realize it was actually real.
He leapt from the chair, his leg hitti
ng the table and knocking over the bottle of rum. He didn’t care. Edin ran over and dropped to his knees.
“You’re okay!” He nearly shouted and grabbed her hands. He kissed them and then hugged her so close she cried. “Sorry,” he offered.
“Where are we?”
Edin told her after he fetched the rum bottle.
“I must’ve been close to the edge,” Arianne said her voice weak but she smiled. “After healing you, pushing the ship for hours… I nearly fell into the void. Using too much power saps your life…”
“I was worried…”
She squeezed his hand. “I know,” she said and closed her eyes. “Is there anything to eat? I’m starving.”
They had to leave the next day, yet Edin had no idea where they were except on a coast. Arianne said the forests were redwoods that grew in the north. They followed the road, a smooth dirt one clearly kept up rather well.
She was slow and grew tired easily. She’d lost at least ten pounds, maybe more, and when she ate too greedily, she felt queasy. Probably because everything was pickled…
Edin had to hold her hair as she vomited twice during that first morning back on the road.
After a short hour of easy travel, the forest opened up revealing the outskirts of the town.
They continued on passing a small plot of farmland, a large garden more likely. Fences that ran along the road seemed a bit like leaning posts. They had things propped up against them nearly every foot. There were farm implements, wagon wheels, long boards, iron strips.
The town felt quiet. He heard the squeal of a door from somewhere off to his right. All of the thatched-roof houses seemed to be silent. The doors were shut and the windows were shuttered. The only sound was their feet crunching gravel.
“Should we find an inn?” Arianne whispered.
“Do you think we should stay the night?”
“I think I need to.” He nodded but that dream, nightmare… no vision… of the meeting played in his mind. Somehow, he’d gotten three of the top five most powerful people in all of Bestoria to unite and come after him… Great job.
He didn’t wish to stay in this town longer than necessary. A squeal of another door caused his hand to move toward his blade. A banded wooden door opened slightly before shutting again and rattling.
The inn had a red sign with the picture of some animal with eight limbs like a spider. The place was called the Giant Squid’s Rest. He didn’t know how great it’d be staying in a place named after a sea creature.
The main room was silent, eerily so. There were no smells coming from the kitchen, the hearth was cold and dead. It had to be nearing lunch, where was everyone?
The hairs on Edin’s neck stood and he began to feel like they were being watched. He gripped his blade and walked toward a large wooden bar. It was long and seemed to be made of one single piece of wood. Unlike the stained wooden bars, with the veins nearly invisible beneath the dark color, these stood out. Edin found it rather fascinating.
Arianne rapped her knuckles against the wood. “Hello?” she called out with a hesitant and quavering voice. She felt it too. It was as if the residents were afraid to come out of their houses during the day.
Wood creaking came from somewhere behind them and Edin nearly jumped. As always, his hand went to the hilt.
“Good morn…” a voice creaked. An older man, bald on the top with strands of white hair flashing off in different directions from the side of his head. He was hunched over a thick wooden cane and wore spectacles.
Edin cleared his throat. “We’d like a room?”
“Two,” Arianne corrected, “two rooms.”
“Ahh… Okay, let me check, I’m unsure if we have any available.”
Edin raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the empty great room again. Unless he was blind or there was some gathering of priests on the north square lawn and they’d be back later to sleep… he was certain the place was empty.
“We have one room,” the man crooked. “How many nights?”
“I do not see anyone in the building, or in the town really…” Arianne said. “How is the inn filled?”
The old man raised an eyebrow and looked at Arianne. His eyes seemed three times as large beyond the glasses. “Why does my dining room need to be filled in order to for the inn to be near capacity?” he grinned. “The answer is it doesn’t.”
Edin turned to Arianne, but the old man spoke again.
“Soldiers been staying here, training I guess… in the woods, on the coasts… not sure why. They’ll be here in a few hours if ya want to ask them yourself.”
Edin swallowed. “How long have they been here?”
“Arrived a few days ago, booked the entire place for the next month.”
“We’ll take it,” Edin said glancing at Arianne. They had to get off the streets and figure out a plan. The soldiers were probably part of the army looking for Edin and Arianne. He should’ve known.
“If you two aren’t married, I expect you both to follow common decency.”
“We will, he’s my brother,” Arianne said.
“Ahh. Now here’s your key.” The man handed it to them and began to turn without taking their money.
“Excuse me, how much is it?”
“You didn’t pay? Huh… it’s um, a copper a night.”
Edin began grabbing for the purse when he stopped. “Are you the proprietor?” Edin asked.
He snorted in a half-hearted laugh. “Used to be… my boy took it over when I got too tired.” The man took the coin and shoved it in his pocket.
“Where is he now?”
“Down south of course... the Duke drafted him for war.”
14
A horse… my (or your) kingdom for a horse
Arianne was tired and went straight to the room. Despite wanting to get off the streets, Edin sat down and ordered an ale. He put the hood of his cloak up and sat in the corner near a window. He wanted to see the men, see if any returned.
The thought of the draft nagged at him. It wasn’t just for Edin and Arianne… that’d be stupid. There had to be another reason… for the life of him he couldn’t think of one… Unless Feracrucio was really planning on invading Dunbilston.
Above the roofs of the town, he spotted the top of the lighthouse a mile or so away. At the moment, there was no beacon emanating from it, though he remembered the glaring light from the night before.
Then he spotted one… two… six men in uniform marching past. Well walking not marching. They seemed… casual but tired. Edin tilted the mug back and started for the stairs.
If there was a draft… would someone really send the army searching for fugitives? Edin guessed it probably had to do with how much the man loved his sadistic son.
They had to sneak out somehow. Then he wondered, did the soldiers miss the boat arriving and the two fugitives staying at the lighthouse? Did the man who ran the lighthouse talk about the vagabonds?
He ran up the stairs and opened the door.
Arianne was laying on her side with an arm jutting out from beneath the pillow. Her breathing was soft and her hair looped over her forehead like a hood.
He glanced out the window, they had a view of the small street and the rest of the city. He could see into a courtyard with stone benches around a fire pit. A street away, he spotted more men returning. They were sweating and tired… their day was over or they were returning for lunch.
If soldiers were searching for Edin and the innkeeper talks of the two strangers, a man and a woman, they’d be at the door soon. They had to get out of town and away from people.
No place like the present.
Edin tapped her shoulder. She was groggy, her eyes glassed over like foggy windows, but she understood what Edin said. Arianne swallowed. “So, what do we do? We can’t exactly take the boat…” her look said good job.
“We have the woods or the road…”
“But there in the woods…”
“They’re probably on the road t
oo…”
“Edin,” Arianne said, “have you thought that maybe they aren’t looking for us? Maybe they are I don’t know war gaming? My father had the army do it all the time…”
“We can hope,” Edin said not knowing what that meant but not liking the sound. “But if we’re wrong and they find us…”
Arianne seemed to be staring at the enchanted bow resting in the corner of the room. The gift from Laural.
“Do you know what the bow does?”
Arianne shook her head. “Hadn’t had a chance to use it.”
“We’ll go south by the edge of the forest.” Edin said. “Before we leave though, we need a distraction.” Edin told her of the plan as he tied a piece of cloth around the head of an arrow and uncorked the bottle of rum.
“I don’t know if I can hit it.” Her shoulder seemed to have healed nearly completely while she was unconscious.
“You can. You’re a great shot.”
She pulled back the bow as he lit the cloth. “What if people are in there?”
Edin pursed his lips and stared at the thatched roof about fifty yards away. It looked abandoned, but was it? The rear door and almost all of the shutters were torn off or hanging by a single nail.
“There aren’t,” Edin said hoping to the gods he was right. “Whenever you’re ready,” Edin said.
“Quiet,” she whispered in a harsh tone, “and don’t stare.”
Edin averted his gaze until he heard the thunk of the bow string loosing. Edin lost the small black arrow as it flew straight at the cottage. Then he lost it in the sun.
“Did it hit?” Edin asked.
“I do not…”
“Here, grab another,” Edin said lighting the second booze-soaked cloth around the arrow. “Try something closer. The tall building over there.”
“What about people inside?”
“They’ll get out in time,” Edin said again hoping it were true.
Arianne aimed and loosed another arrow at the large building. Soft shouts began to erupt from the southeast.
Edin’s gaze turned toward the first shot. He couldn’t see the fire in the sunlight, but he could see the thatching turning black. He looked back at the other building. The same.