by B J Hanlon
Edin walked up the creaking stairs and found a small package. He picked it up. A note was pushed into the twine wrapping. ‘Your clothes all laundered. Le Fie.’ Edin put it under his arm and pushed through the dying door. The wooden slats that ran vertical were warped and the wind whistled over thin cracks. As he moved deeper inside, he gave a cursory glance to the open floor. A stove, pots, and dry goods positioned at the back wall.
Soft moonlight died as it met the flames of a pair of lanterns. A crude wooden staircase sat off to his left. Edin climbed feeling that at any moment it’d collapse.
It was an open stairwell that followed the outer wall for half a rotation before he reached the second floor.
Edin saw the beds and moved toward the one beneath the window. Outside he saw the beginnings of the sun rising with a red fury on the dark and vast ocean.
A thought came across his mind, he could be the furthest east that anyone has ever been...
Edin looked down at the comfortable bed by his knees. He remembered it was Dor’s or whatever his name was… then he wondered for a while if he should take it just to upset him. The man-boy seemed like a jerk.
“No,” he whispered to himself. He’d already made a bad first impression.
Edin threw the package onto the floor next to the opposite bed and flopped onto it. He felt tired, sore, and drunk. He rolled over and found a beam of sunlight covering his face.
No wonder the roommate slept on that side, Edin thought. Edin twisted to face the dark stone wall and covered his face with the blanket. He felt cold and thought about Arianne, wondering where she was and if she was thinking about him.
He wrapped his arms around his body and wished he could communicate with her, tell her good night… or good morning as it were.
The dream came again, Arianne crushed, Foristol attacking.
Edin shot up and looked around. For a moment, he forgot where he was. The sun wasn’t blaring onto his pillow anymore, that was good, and he felt a bit soberer.
He’d slept. A little while at least, it was still morning though probably closer to eleven, though he had no idea what time he’d gotten to bed. Four hours, maybe five. Edin turned back and looked across the open room to Dorset’s bed.
He felt exposed. He’d need to get a partition or something. There was no way he’d want to look at Dorset’s bed all night.
Edin rolled back toward the wall and shut his eyes. Later.
He was half asleep, maybe fully asleep—sometimes it was impossible for him to tell—when he heard noises below him. Then there were heavy footsteps pounding up creaky stairs. He remembered the battle at the dry docks. In an instant, Edin rolled from his bed, and drew his blade at the exact moment a head appeared in the floor.
A moment later, he remembered he was on the Isle of Mists. Just bad dreams.
“You Edin?” The man said. Edin nodded and then looked down at himself. He was in his undertrousers and nothing else. He hadn’t remembered removing his clothes. Slowly, he let the blade drop.
“I’m Henny and you’re late.” The man wore a brown tunic and brown trousers to go with a wide wicker hat. The man had huge arms, a thick neck, and a bushy black beard speckled with gray. It crawled like ground covering weeds all the way around his neck. His face was wrinkled from time out in the sun but he seemed to walk with a purpose as he approached.
“I wasn’t told…” Edin began to lie, excuse making, like he did with his mother, with Master Horston.
Henny waived his hand, “don’t matter to me. Unless you’re gonna stab me with that there blade, get dressed. We got work to do. I’m already missing far too much time riding to this backwater.”
Edin mulled it over in his head. Did he play his game, do what Pharont wanted and work the field?
It was far from the way he’d pictured his life. A long way from dreams of playing hero but now, he knew this was better than that.
He had his adventure, he’d met pirates, gangs, and sellswords. Spent far too many nights on the road, spent too much time being stitched up, and slept to long with rocks in his bum. He had a bed, a job, and a girl.
Edin nodded. “Let me get dressed.”
Henny disappeared back down the stairs that still sounded as if they’d collapse. Edin threw on his black clothes from the day before and went down.
“That’s formal wear, only to be worn for an audience with the Praesidium. You can’t wear that.”
“I have nothing else,” he lied again. “Would you rather see me working naked?”
“Gods no.” The man eyed him for a moment before sighing and heading outside. “Tomorrow, you need more appropriate clothes,” he muttered and motioned Edin outside and toward a horse. It was a white and gray mare already saddled next to Henny’s huge brown stallion.
Edin absently wondered how his horse, former horse Hail, was doing. If he was still out there roaming the grasslands. Maybe he found some mare and was off living a life free of everything. More likely though, he was stuck in someone’s stables.
They rode for a half-hour through grazing lands and small farms. Pig sties and chicken coops dotted the landscape with low grasslands and the road cutting through like rivers.
They crossed another long bridge from one island, Brackland, to the other, Newland. Henny explained that Brackland was mostly grass with around a thousand cattle on it. Seen from the sky, it was shaped almost like an arrowhead pointing north east. The Reaches were three long peninsulas that poked out into the sea nearest the tip. Newland though was almost completely farmland with small copses of trees dotting the land. The island was connected to Brackland by two long bridges.
“Don’t know why they put you at the Reaches, by foot it’ll take you two hours to walk each way and we start work at six.”
Edin knew the reason, the fat man wanted him to suffer. He didn’t do himself any favors by acting the way he did. Edin pulled out the flask and took a sip. Henny shook his head.
He held the reigns tight and clenched his legs against the horse as they crossed one of the chasms. About twenty yards below was a rock-infested waterway rolling with the tides.
After they crossed, the horses trotted along a dirt road between row upon row of wheat to one side and corn to the other. In the distance, he saw a knoll with what looked like grape vines held up by T posts.
Henny started to slow and pulled alongside Edin. “You ever worked a field before?”
Edin shook his head. “We had tenant farmers. Never spent much time with them.”
Henny eyed him.
“Back on Bestoria, I was of noble birth,” Edin said answering the unasked question. “I wasn’t pampered, if you’re wondering.”
“Not here you ain’t noble, and don’t tell Fior,” Henny paused. “You haven’t worked a farm eh?” Edin shook his head. “Ran cattle?” Edin didn’t answer. “Blacksmithing, tanning? Let me guess you’re a knitter.”
“No, I can’t do any of that… I did have chores around the manor.”
Henny snorted. “You were pampered.”
They came to a set of four long low buildings. Farmhands, twenty maybe, hid from the midday sun beneath a long porch or under trees.
Henny led him to a small stable; they left the horses with a boy of about ten. The kid was well practiced and by the time Edin stepped into the sun, the mare was already unsaddled.
Almost instantly, a man appeared before them glaring at Edin. “About bleeding time you showed up. I should give you twenty lashes.” His voice was rough but his appearance wasn’t.
“Fior, this is Edin.”
“I know his name. What the heck do you think you’re wearing? You think the Praesidium is gonna call you for an audience?”
“It’s all he had,” Henny said.
Fior ran his tongue along the inside of his lips causing them to bulge like a waterskin filled to the brim. The man had a trimmed red beard and hair pulled back in a weird bun at the crown of his head. He had pale skin almost completely freckled. His belly said
he was the type of man who sat on his backside and told others what to do.
“You know how to work a farm?”
“He doesn’t,” Henny said.
Fior huffed, spat onto the ground near Edin’s boots, and eyed him over. “Why the heck do I get stuck with an incompetent boy?”
Boy… why do they call him boy… Edin clenched his jaw as their eyes locked and Henny twitched uncomfortably.
“You wanna take a swing at me?” Fior whispered.
Edin said nothing.
Fior growled and stepped closer. “Get him on the plow, he’ll work till I say he’s done…” A few more steps and now he was nose to nose with Edin. Or more closely, nose to mouth as Fior was shorter than Edin.
“You want to hit me, don’t ya,” Fior said.
“Not yet,” Edin said.
Henny stepped back. “Enough of this chest beating,” Henny said putting a hand on Edin and pushing him gently.
Edin felt tired and the sun was torching his black cloths. Despite the heat, he’d have done almost anything for a coffee.
“You do and I’ll have you in the dungeons.”
Edin shifted his jaw. The man was a blotard.
“Come on kid, I’ll get you set up with a plow.” Henny took him by the forearm and started to pull.
Edin held Fior’s gaze until they rounded a wall into a barn.
“Watch yourself with him, he ain’t got the talent, but he does have power. He grew up friendly with the FAE. It’s how he got the job,” Henny said.
Then it was work time, Henny showed Edin how to yoke the beast and plow. Then the big farm hand led them a few hundred yards to the south toward a barren field. All Edin had to do was go in a straight line while Henny followed and sowed the seeds.
Edin really didn’t care. He’d decided to do what he had to for now.
They worked for a few hours, Edin’s oxen kept him on a more or less straight path, but the plow kept tilting to one side or the other making angled waving trenches. Behind him Henny cursed just loud enough for Edin to hear.
Eventually, he lost track of time and grew tired. Sweaty and sticky, he was sure to have blisters later from the rough wooden handholds. Edin took a pair of water breaks, sneaking a bit of whiskey each time, but they were barely long enough to make it to the barn and ladle water into his mouth.
“Edin?” A voice said and for a moment, he was sure it was just then wind. It came again, Arianne’s voice, from somewhere off to the west. Edin was seated under a tree drinking from a waterskin and resting.
Edin pushed himself up and looked around. A moment later, he saw her blond hair high above the corn stalks.
“Over here,” he called out and watched her head swivel in his direction. She cut through a row on a small black mare. It seemed she had gone shopping, probably with Casitas. The thought made him fume for a moment. She wore a sea blue tunic, beige trousers, and had a light blue cape strapped to her neck.
“What are y’all doing? Get back to work,” Fior yelled rumbling up from behind them.
Edin wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm and saw the splotchy dirt covered uniform. He tried brushing off the dirt and grime though it seemed to just press itself into the fabric.
“Who are you woman? His water break is over,” Fior yelled as Arianne stopped. They should’ve still had a few minutes before the break was complete, but no one spoke up.
“I was asked by the FAE to speak with worker Edin,” Arianne said. The way she said worker sounded like a title…
The foreman looked at her, eyeing her up and down with squinting eyes as if trying to tell if she was lying. Then he switched his gaze to Edin.
“Fine, you have one minute.” He crossed his arms and stepped a yard back watching them.
“Alone,” Arianne said.
Like a petulant child, Fior said “This is my field, you want to be alone, go to a place different from me.”
Arianne nodded slightly and turned the horse.
Edin said nothing. He followed her into a patch between tomato and corn fields before helping her off the horse.
“Do you know we have a spell that controls growing seasons all year round?” She paused, “and it takes them a quarter of the time to grow plants?”
“It’s nice to see you as well,” Edin said realizing she said ‘we’ she was part of them now…
Arianne’s face went sullen and suddenly Edin had the urge to take her in his arms, pull her close, and kiss her.
Arianne stepped back when he tried to hug her. “You’re filthy,” she said.
“You never cared about that before.”
“I’m dressed well now.”
“The life of a farmer I guess,” Edin smiled. Seeing her, made him realize that over the past few hours, he’d focused only on the plow. He hadn’t thought about the journey, the people whose lives had been ended so suddenly.
“You are,” Arianne said.
Edin shrugged, “it’s what that fat fool told me to do so I’ll do it.”
“Don’t call him that,” she said. “Why were you late this morning?”
“Are you watching me?”
“I received word. You spent the evening at a tavern, walked home with some… barmaid and showed up late.” Her voice grew stern and cold. “The first night we’re not together you find some little wench and forget about me?”
“No,” Edin cried, “she walked me home, that was all.” Was his roommate a snitch? “Nothing happened, I’m… I have you,” Edin took her hand.
“Are you sure?”
He leaned in to kiss her.
“Have you been drinking?” she asked pulling away.
“It’s hard work,” Edin said.
“Stop it Edin,” Arianne scoffed. “Stop the drinking, stop acting like you’re too good for this place. You need to behave. Gods,” she said and looked up into the sky as if looking for words written in the clouds.
Edin thought he could see a gleam of tears beginning to form. “I’m sorry,” Edin said and sort of knew why...
“Edin,” she looked back at him. “I have been given a room in the castle, my own handmaiden. They have accepted me as the daughter of the former king… though they will not accept me as queen. I’m to be listened to.” Her voice deepened. “This is my world Edin. Where I belong.”
“But not with me…” Edin said.
“It’s not that… I need time to adjust… I just don’t know anymore. I’ve only had you for the last few months, you’re the only person who I could trust, could count on.”
He felt as if she’d plunged her bejeweled dagger into him. Edin swallowed. “Now that you’re back in your castle, I’m beneath you… look at Edin a lowly farmer?”
“No, but I think we should take time. Let’s integrate into this world, find out who we are in this place because we are not… we will not be the same people we were before.”
“Arianne…” Edin started but she held up a hand again.
“Edin, if you care about me, you’ll accept this.” She put her soft hand to his dirty cheek and ran her thumb down his jaw line.
Edin’s hand began to shake and his mouth went dry wishing for a drink. Anything to quiet his mind. He swallowed. “So that’s it. You’re a princess again and I’m… nothing to you.”
“You’re my friend.”
Edin shook his head. “No. No I’m not…”
“If that is what you wish,” Arianne said looking away, “goodbye Edin.” She climbed her mare, turned it around, and headed away. Like Kesona, she didn’t turn back and disappeared behind the corn stalks.
“Women issues?” Fior said appearing next to him.
Edin wiped a tear from his eye but said nothing.
“Take this to the quartermaster in the city. I expect you to be dressed appropriately tomorrow.” Fior handed him a piece of parchment. “I drew a map for you. It’s five leagues as the crow flies, more like six though. If you run, you should be able to make it before they close. “Be at th
e field on time tomorrow and dressed appropriately. You won’t get another warning.”
5
The Boganthean Tower
Edin shuffled down the dirt road. He wasn’t going to run for anyone, least of all that blotard. He passed through Ranchera and saw women working in small gardens around the cottages. Sweat beaded their arms and chests, dirt covered their hands. A woman grunted, an unwomanlike grunt while pulling at the stem of some root vegetable. She jammed in a small hand shovel, levered it back a few times then began yanking again.
“Coming back later?” a voice called. He turned to see Baili standing in the door of her tavern. A few of the crones looked up.
Edin shrugged. “Not sure, heading into town…”
She chuckled. “I see why.”
“Can I get a drink to go?”
She grinned, “sure thing.” She took his flask, refilled it, and came back out.
As he waited, he watched the women tending the small homesteads. A pair of children were playing down a row of leafy vegetables. A group of baby goats, kids, were calling out behind a small pen.
To the right, a baby began to cry and the mother let out a frustrated groan. It was peaceful and difficult at the same time.
He tried to picture Arianne in one of those patches, tending a garden taking care of their children. She wouldn’t do that, even for him, she was a princess.
“Here ya go,” Baili said handing him the flask.
“Thank you,” Edin said and began to walk.
Now that he was here and safe, for what that was worth, he wondered why? He fulfilled his promise to his mother, Grent, and Horston. He made it.
The looming volcano, far ahead, stood silent against the setting sun. Now he was in the safest place for his kind and completely alone. Maybe it’d be better if he were a hermit… or not alive at all. At least he’d have his mother in death. His family.
Arianne was gone, and with her leaving so did any hope for the future. Her demeanor had changed, snapped like a twig in the high desert, all in one day. She wanted space, time apart, Edin had heard that before.