Journey's Middle

by B. K. Parent

  Shueller slid in and out of consciousness and had trouble separating what was real from what was a dream. One time when he regained consciousness, he thought he was on horseback, settled in the saddle in front of someone, but maybe that was just his bruised and battered body playing tricks on him. Once he remembered the strong smell of hay and thought he felt a wagon swaying under him, but mostly he had trouble just thinking at all outside of the pain that wracked his body. Finally, Shueller became aware of feeling warm and resting on something soft. In addition, he thought he could smell chicken broth quite close at hand. A gentle hand touched his forehead, and when he jerked away from the touch, it almost sent him spiraling downward into darkness once again.

  A kind, no nonsense voice said, “Hold now, no harm will come to you here.”

  Shueller slowly opened his eyes and found himself looking up at a thatched cottage roof. The room was dim, for which he was thankful, having been kept in a dark cell for so long. He slowly turned his head and took in the rest of the room in which he was lying. It was a bedroom simply furnished with a rough-hewn table holding a washing bowl and a pitcher, a small wardrobe, and the bed he was laying on. The only other furniture in the room was a chair, which he realized was occupied by a very short Günnary woman of indeterminate age.

  Shueller knew her, but certainly from a different place and a different time. I must be dead, he thought to himself, for Chesna could not possibly be here, but then again, where was here exactly? Shueller found himself becoming agitated, and once again, Chesna laid her hand on his forehead and told him to relax. He felt a sense of peace flow through him and drifted back into the darkness, but this time it was the dark of a calm and healing sleep. When he awoke, he found the chair Chesna had been sitting in now occupied by a tall, dark-haired man, who he knew as Bertok, one of the Raven’s trusted men.

  The moment the door to the tavern banged open, all movement became suspended. No one even seemed to breathe. The figure that loomed in the doorway was clothed in a dark cloak, the hood up obscuring his face. Everyone else seemed to shrink in size and diminish in some way as the man stepped into the room.

  “As you were, gentlemen. Ah, excuse me, milady,” the man said, as he swept off his cloak and called for a dinner of bread and stew, all the while heading straight towards Master Rollag and Lady Celik.

  The two local louts quickly backed away and returned to their seats. Without invitation, the huge man sat down at Master Rollag and Lady Celik’s table and gave a beatific smile to the tavern owner’s wife when she set a huge trencher of stew and a loaf of bread in front of him. The man was of middle years, and even when seated, was much taller than the other two at the table. Broad shouldered and muscular, with long blond hair tied back in one long braid down his back, a bushy beard covered most of his lower face, which was dominated by a large nose and eyes the mysterious blue of twilight. Yet for all his size and commanding presence, there was an underlying hint of scholarly intellect.

  Turning to Lady Celik, he said, “Milady, you are more beautiful than I remember, and you, sir, are not. I understand you two have been looking for me,” he said between mouthfuls. “Is it time then?”

  “We are unsure, but whatever is going to happen will happen soon,” replied Lady Celik. “Have you had any success, Seeker Eshana?”

  Taking time to carefully mop up the last of the gravy with a hunk of bread, Seeker Eshana nodded his head.

  “I have finally found what I have long sought. Odd that it has become available just when I had almost given up hope, and just when we might need it. Or maybe not so odd. I think we had best make our way swiftly to the capitol.”

  So intent were the three on their conversation, they did not notice the man dressed in the garb of a courier, who was leaning against a back pillar, deep in shadow.

  The passage out of the harbor had gone smoothly, and the prevailing winds were in Thorval’s favor. Johan had recovered enough from the beating and the setting of his broken arm that he came up on deck to relieve Thorval. After taking a break, Thorval returned to deck and sat down to get some answers out of Johan.

  “Whatever possessed you to go to that part of the docks in the first place?” Thorval inquired.

  “Well, as much as I be hatin’ to admit it, I be gettin’ on in years and sailin’ this boat alone be gettin’ harder. So far, I still be eekin’ out a livin’ fishin’ but many a small independent fisher has been pushed out of business because of the special licenses to some of the larger fleets. Some of the fishers I be knowin’ all me life have lost their boats. Many good fishers are lookin’ for work. When ye have lost yer boat and yer livelihood, it stands to reason ye’ll not be livin’ in a fine villa on the hill. I be hopin’ to find an old acquaintance and see if’n he would hire on with me. I guess me luck ran out this day, which brings me to a subject we be needin’ to talk about. Somewhere in me mind, I have a strange memory, or perhaps a pain-induced dream. Did ye say ye needed me boat to travel to the Shadow Islands?”

  “Yes.”

  “I be hopin’ for a different answer,” Johan stated ruefully.

  “I know what is said about what can or can’t happen in the Shadow Islands, but believe me, it is not half as bad in comparison to what will happen to us if we don’t lose that boat I can see behind us just on the horizon line. It has been following us for the past hour or so, staying the same length back. How fast can this old boat move?”

  Shueller caught himself staring at Bertok and had to pull his eyes away. He found himself becoming agitated and worried. Had Bertok harmed Chesna? Shueller did not believe for a minute that Chesna would knowingly work for the Raven or his ilk.

  When Shueller tried to rise, Bertok called over his shoulder, “He is awake and looks fighting mad. You might want to come in here and reassure him.”

  Chesna entered the room and moved swiftly to the bed, all the while murmuring soothing words. Shueller studied her and saw no fear in her, only concern. Could he be wrong? Had she either shifted allegiances, or had she been duped into thinking Bertok was his friend? This was so confusing to his very weary mind. During all the dark hours in the Raven’s stronghold, Shueller thought he had not given up any information that could be used to harm or track down those who had helped the Princess escape. He did not think he had told them where they might find the Princess either, nor had he revealed the names of others who were loyal to the Crown and working in secret against the Regent and his minions. So now, here he was in a warm bed, being offered chicken broth by a childhood friend, while the Raven’s man looked on. Was the plan now to offer what appeared to be kindness and safety, so that he would relax enough to reveal secrets he would not give up to them even under extreme pain? What was he to do? What was he to think?

  “You need to eat,” Chesna told him. “You need to get your strength back as soon as you can for time grows short and much needs to be done. We cannot stay here much longer. Your homewagon is here and has been repainted so it won’t be recognized. They did a good job with aging the paint job, so it doesn’t look obviously new. We switched horses, for that old piebald one of yours is pretty recognizable. The only problem now is we need a driver, for even with a new paint job and new horses, you are quite easy to spot. Do you know of any rovers you can absolutely trust who can drive your homewagon and not draw attention to themselves?”

  Shueller was hearing the words that Chesna was saying but was also trying to read her. Was she telling the truth? Could she be trusted, and what of Bertok?

  As if he could read Shueller’s mind, Bertok spoke. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but perhaps this will help with your indecision.” Bertok reached into his pocket, pulled out an object, and handed it to Shueller.

  “I am Nissa,” I answered the man I had seen with the group Da and I had been sent to listen to at the Inn of the Three Hares. I could feel Beezle step closer to me, for I am sure he recogn
ized the man also. The man remained in the shadow of the homewagon and gestured for us to move closer.

  “I would talk to you in private then, if I may.”

  “Anything you have to say can be said in front of the two I am standing with.”

  Carz had risen and placed himself in front of me, and Master Clarisse had taken a stance of alertness to my left.

  “That would be fine, but we need to get out of the light and make sure no one is about, for what I have to say concerns a short friend of yours.”

  I signaled to Carz that he should remain alert, and Beezle told me he would check the surrounding area to make sure we would not be overheard. Master Clarisse and I stepped into the shadows and waited until Beezle joined us.

  “All clear for the moment,” Beezle said, “but we had best be quick.”

  “I need your help. I know you have no reason to trust me, for I am a stranger to you,” the young man said, in a voice just barely above a whisper, “but . . .”

  Not so much of a stranger as you might think, I thought to myself.

  “. . . Arial, my mother is well acquainted with your father Thorval, and we have met before, but you probably don’t remember me. We were but youngsters.”

  I could feel Master Clarisse and Beezle both shift slightly. Oh my, I thought, I am going to have some explaining to do.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Master Clarisse suggested we move the conversation into the homewagon. I could not tell much from her tone of voice. I just hoped I could get my feet to move, which at that moment were rooted to the ground. I do not know what was terrifying me more, the fact that this stranger standing before me knew who I really was and that Thorval was my Da, or that Master Clarisse and Beezle would learn that the Thorval just mentioned was the Thorval Pedersen wanted by the Regent, and I was his daughter. I had long worried that this very moment would come and questioned how my friends would react. An additional cause for the panic I was feeling was brought on by the fact that this could be a trap. How was I supposed to respond to either him or my friends? With a great deal of reluctance, I stepped forward and led the way into my homewagon.

  Master Clarisse closed the door behind her, and Beezle slid around me to close the shutters and then the front door. No one moved to light a light. I was not all that sure about how wise it was to have moved into the homewagon with a stranger, and standing in the dark was not helping. I heard the rustle of cloth, and then a very small red light began to glow, and then move towards the table, stopping to rest there.

  “This should give us enough light to see by, but not so much as to shine outside the homewagon. I can understand your need for discretion. No one knows that better than I, believe me. I am Elek, Lady Celik’s son, who is more commonly known in the Regent’s circles as Bertok, one of the Raven’s top men.”

  I heard a very quiet intake of breath and realized that while I had been thinking about myself and how to handle the questions I knew were bound to come, I had completely forgotten the Princess. How could I be so self-centered, worrying about how others might react to me once they knew who I really was, when the Princess’ life and what happened in the next few minutes could change a great deal in Sommerhjem?

  I ushered the Princess to the front steps of the homewagon and whispered to her, “Sit here and be ready to exit if you feel threatened in any way. Get to the Jalcones’ wagon and use the secret compartment to hide in. I know Mistress Jalcones showed it to you. You will be safe with them.”

  I was glad that when we had first arrived at the Lambkin fair, all of us had had the foresight to sit down and make up contingency plans concerning the Princess’ safety. I now knew that both Master Clarisse’s wagon and the Jalcones’ wagon had hidden compartments. While they were never really designed to hide anyone, they could do so for a short and very uncomfortable time. I had hoped that we would not have to use any of the alternate plans, for it would mean I would probably be in a bad situation, but there I went again thinking about myself and not attending to the problem at hand.

  Elek had continued to talk while I was getting the Princess settled, and I almost missed what he said next. “I can appreciate that you are somewhat skeptical about talking to me, but I hope by revealing who I am I might give you some measure of assurance that I come on an errand of utmost importance.”

  “That only works if we know that you are either of the two folks you say you are,” Beezle commented dryly.

  Elek turned to Nissa and said, “Arial, I know we have both grown and changed in appearance, but I would know you anywhere. You left a big impression on me when we were just youngsters. Do you remember when you were about eight or nine and you and your family stayed at Cliffmoor manor? Your Da was commissioned to design and make the very fancy ironwork for the main gates and for the stable doors. You made a pest of yourself, bugging the master carpenter who was working with your Da on the stable doors. Every time he turned around to pick up a scrap of wood to use for a wedge or to mark measurements on, it was gone because you had taken it to whittle. He never allowed anyone to be a pest or interfere with his work. He was a very strict and seemingly hard hearted man, but after awhile, he just started leaving small pieces of wood around, just so he could see what you would make from them. Even then you were carving whimsies. You gave me one all those years ago. I have always carried it as a good luck charm of sorts. Here, look,” he said, as he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small carved wooden object, and held his hand in the light so I could see it.

  Looking at the whimsy brought back a flood of memories, and I took a closer look at the man seated across from me. Slowly, a memory began to form of that summer when I had carved the whimsy, for it was indeed one of mine. Could this man sitting here really be that pudgy, almost grown lad who had been so kind to me all those years ago? I looked closely, and though this man was taller and broad shouldered, very muscular and older, I could still see the resemblance to the lad he once had been.

  “I can accept that you are Elek,” I said, “and once you were very kind to me. How then did that lad I once knew briefly become one of the Raven’s men?”

  “My mother became concerned about my welfare and continuing good health after the Regent began to gather power. She had obviously been a member of the Queen’s inner circle and held enough influence even after the Queen’s death that the Regent did not dare move directly against her. She was vulnerable through me, however, so she sent me to live with a distant cousin high in the far southern mountains. More of a fortress than a home. He and his guard the southern pass. I spent a number of years there training, and then mother sent for me. My transformation from pudgy lad to man surprised even my mother, who suggested that few would recognize me. I was set to the task of working my way into the Raven’s crew to better obtain information on what the Regent was up to. I posed as a disenfranchised youngest son of a minor noble and was accepted first into a group of other youth who were thinking that siding with the Regent might get them land and riches down the line. I then began to make myself useful to the Raven himself.”

  By now all of us were caught up in Elek’s story and had almost forgotten to ask why he was here. Before I could ask, Elek went on.

  “Over the last few months, I had made myself useful enough to the Raven that he was including me in his inner circle. That made Durward, one of his trusted guards, jealous, and I played upon that. In retrospect, that was a very dangerous game, but in the end, it worked out well. A rover named Shueller was captured and brought to Waldron Keep, the Raven’s stronghold. I wish I could have helped him sooner, but it would have given me away, and then I would have been his cell mate. Instead, I kept hinting to Durward that we should join forces; that the Raven was playing us against each other for his own amusement, so if we joined forces, we could take over his organization and his riches.

  One night, the Raven called the two of us up to the top of the
tower to join him in a meal. He was feeling expansive that night, and when he felt that way, he liked to be at the very top of his tower and survey the land around him. He liked to brag that all the land, as far as he could see, was his, and soon there would be more. He was standing by the edge when Durward suddenly started grappling with him. It was the Raven’s own ego that did him in. He was enormously vain and thought wearing a cape enhanced his image. I was sure that the Raven, who was so much more powerful and a much better fighter, thought he would prevail, and for awhile, it looked like that is what the outcome would be. The Raven just did not count on either Durward’s tenacity or luck. The Raven lifted Durward up to throw him off the tower, and just as he thrust Durward outward to his doom, Durward somehow twisted and grabbed the Raven’s cape, pulling the Raven over with him. I took advantage of the moment, rushed to the lower level of the tower, overcame the guards, and got Shueller out of there. We got away, but I am sure there is a now a price on my head. One or another of the Raven’s henchmen will surely step in and try to fill his boots. I am quite sure it did not go unnoticed that I departed at the same time that the Raven and Durward met their demises, and Shueller somehow escaped.”

  “This is, of course, good news knowing the Raven is dead, and his organization is now less strong, but that still does not tell us why you have come looking for Nissa,” Master Clarisse stated.

  “I need her help to get Shueller to the capitol.”

  I was beginning to feel like a travel wagon for hire. First, the Princess ended up in my homewagon with a need to get to the capitol, and now Shueller. Before I could express my concern, Elek explained.