The Dieya Chronicles - Incident on Ravar

by John Migacz

CHAPTER 50

  For Balthus, Adrianna, and their growing number of charges, the rest of the journey to Freetown was uneventful – with the exception of the ongoing duel between Gerilia and Balthus. Thankfully, Gerilia had chosen to remain silent since their last exchange a day earlier. Gerin watched these altercations closely and at one point Balthus overheard a quarrel between the siblings. Balthus smiled. Ah, the lad’s learning to not give in to her.

  They traveled longer hours now that they were on the King’s Road, and spent the nights at roadside inns. At noon of the third day since the rescue, the band neared Freetown on a beautiful, warm, cloudless day.

  On a hilltop overlooking the town, Troshy halted the coach to give the team a breather before starting down. The four riders pulled abreast of Balthus and gazed below. The settlement took up most of the valley and a haze of smoke lay atop the buildings.

  “Freetown,” announced Balthus with a wave of his arm.

  “It’s much bigger than I imagined,” said Janelle.

  “I’m surprised there are no protective walls,” said Rory.

  “There’s no need for walls,” said Balthus. “It’s the people outside the town that need protecting. Freetown allows anyone in with no questions asked. Its name does not derive from everything being ‘free’ in Freetown. No, it’s because anything freely goes. There’s a small, merchant-funded town guard that patrols the streets at night. They prevent only the occasional murder or theft. If the trouble is something more than the guard can handle, they send for the Lancers.” He patted his luse to stop it from sidestepping. “And no one wants the Lancers in town unless they are off duty. They tend to bash in everyone’s head then sort it out later.”

  They continued at a slow walk toward the town and Balthus warmed to his history lesson. “Once, a band of thieves established a guild in the western quarter and tried to run the entire town. The Lancers surrounded the area and burned it to the ground, arresting or killing anyone who tried to leave.”

  “Sounds like a hard place,” said Bo.

  “Aye, hard it is, but because they have no taxes or duties, anything in the world can be purchased here, from wines to weapons to vice. It’s a town where you will do well to keep one hand on your purse and the other on your dirk. It’s a villainous hive of cutthroats and bastards.” He let out a sigh. “My kind of town.”

  “I thought you’d fit right in,” said Janelle.

  “Aye, with the exception of the pair in the coach, I think we all fit in,” he said. “Jedaria, where the twins’ father has his vineyards, is about five miles west of here. We’ll drop them off and be about our business in Freetown by dusk.”

  “What business do we have in Freetown?” asked Rory.

  Balthus opened his mouth but Adrianna interrupted him. “The business of a hot bath, a soft bed and good food,” she said.

  “A hot bath sounds heavenly,” said Janelle, closing her eyes.

  “And mundane tasks such as re-supplying and getting new mounts,” said Balthus, answering Rory’s question.

  “The Arms tonight, Balthus?” asked Adrianna.

  “Of course, Sweetheart. You know how I love the Arms.” He kicked his luse and they trotted down the hill.

  They rode west of Freetown on a wide road used mainly by merchants moving goods from the coast. They passed a variety of wagons, carrying everything from fish to coal, including one small wagon guarded by eight hard looking mercenaries. Balthus gave each wagon a hearty “hello” and to the guards, a nod.

  Gerin leaned out of the carriage and caught Balthus’ attention. “Balthus, about a quarter of a mile up the road is a turnoff to the right. Our father’s estate is a mile beyond that.”

  “Thanks, Gerin. We should have you home for supper.”

  “Balthus, will you stay the night with us? I’m sure father will be most pleased.”

  “Thanks Lad, but no. We must be getting on, and I know that Adrianna wants to have dinner at the Arms. But thank you for your offer.”

  With no need for scouting, Balthus rode in front with Adrianna and the trio, just ahead of the carriage. The road was wide and the hard-packed dirt made little dust.

  The turnoff to the Jedar estate was hard to miss. On each side of a wide road rose two massive stone pillars about fifteen feet high, supporting a gilded sign that simply said “Jedaria.” Balthus stared at the sign. “Money and class.”

  Adrianna nodded her agreement.

  The approach to the main house was a half-mile long cobbled road through evenly spaced rows of grape arbors. A score of field hands pruned, watered and weeded the sprawling acreage.

  Topping a small rise, a dozen large buildings of the Jedar estate sprawled before them. The red-tile roof and white-stucco main house was a two-story affair, big enough to contain at least twenty rooms. A ten-foot-high wall with small towers on the corners surrounded the complex. A gate of iron-bound, foot-thick wood stood open. Passing through the gate, Balthus noted a parapet running around the inside of the walls. “With a few dozen good men, this place could be very defensible,” he said to Adrianna. “This Thoril Jedar has risen a notch in my estimation.”

  Halting at the front door, they were met by two seasoned guards wearing Jedar livery and carrying halberds. An elderly servant rushed from the front door as Balthus dismounted. The servant took in the group’s clothing and his disdainful expression said they were in the wrong place.

  “I’m sorry, but –” The carriage door opened and Gerin climbed down. “Master Gerin!” exclaimed the servant. His stony face broke into a big smile and he clasped his hands together. Gerin helped his sister down from the carriage.

  “And Mistress Gerilia,” said the servant, his smile growing wider.

  “Hello Lund. How’s Father?” asked Gerin.

  “Fine, and he will be better when he hears you have arrived safely.”

  “Lund, these are my friends and succors, Sir Balthus, the Lady Adrianna, and their friends Rory, Bo, and Lady Janelle. Please seat them in the drawing room and see to their needs. Is father in the house or in the fields?” asked Gerin.

  “Your father is in the library, Master Gerin,” he said.

  “I must see him immediately,” said Gerilia, and stomped toward the front door.

  “Immediately?” asked Gerin. “Looking like that? With travel dust all over your face?”

  Gerilia looked stricken and touched her face. “Dust?”

  “More like dirt,” said Balthus.

  “Oh dear!” She bolted into the house and ran up the stairs.

  Gerin turned to Balthus as they entered. “I must talk to father before she does.”

  “You’re learning, son.” Balthus grinned and patted Gerin on the back.

  “Balthus, please follow Lund,” said Gerin. “I will join you shortly.”

  The lean man seated behind the ornate, hand-carved desk had a swordsman’s demeanor rather than a merchant’s and clenched his quill like a weapon. He scowled down at the column of numbers that was his current opponent and grasped a handful of silver-shot, light brown hair. He looked up as the door opened. “Gerin!” he cried. Thoril Jedar leaped from behind his desk and grabbed the boy in a hug, then held him at arm’s length. “Are you and your sister all right?” he asked, through a beaming smile.

  “Yes, Father, we are. Gerilia is freshening up, and it’s her I need to talk to you about.” He disengaged from his father’s arms and closed the library door. “Where is the key?” asked Gerin.

  “Next to the door on the table. So it’s really that serious?” he said, fighting an impulse to chuckle.

  “Yes, Father, I believe it is.” Gerin locked the door and led his father by the arm to a pair of stuffed chairs near a bay window. “This tale will take a few minutes to tell and I do not wish to be interrupted by Gerilia. Let us sit, Father.”

  “Ah, so that’s it, some sibling spat,” said Thoril, and smiled as th
ey sat.

  “No father, it’s not!” Gerin stood suddenly and gripped his father’s upper arms hard. “This is not some quarrel over a toy or a tiff over some imagined slight. This is deadly serious, and I mean deadly! If you value any goodness that might be left in your daughter’s heart you will pay attention to me.” He released his grip and sat on the edge of his chair. “Look me in the eye, Father, and see if I don’t mean every word I say.”

  Thoril Jedar, stunned by his son’s intensity, stared at Gerin and nodded.

  “Yes…” His face softened and he ventured a smile. “You’ve grown, son. And I like what I see. Tell me, Gerin. I will listen closely.”

  Gerin nodded and began his tale of their travels, the attack and Balthus and Adrianna’s timely rescue. He was almost through the story when Gerilia began banging on the door.

  “Father,” she yelled. “Father I must see you now!” She rattled the doorknob and shook the door. “Father, open this door now!” She pounded on it with her fist. Abruptly, the pounding stopped.

  “She is probably looking for Lund and the spare key,” said Gerin.

  “No matter,” said Thoril. His face was still ashen from hearing how close he had come to losing both his children. “Please continue.”

  Gerin ran a hand through his hair. “The worst of it was her reaction, Father. Two men died defending us and she didn’t even want to stop to bury them.” He looked down and shook his head. “Balthus says we are doing her a disservice and I believe him to be correct.”

  Thoril Jedar leaned back in his chair. “Have I raised a spoiled, petulant brat who has no regard for others?” He covered his face with his hands for a moment, then leaned forward. “After your mother died…” Thoril sighed. “I could not refuse the two of you anything. Part of my problem is that I still think of you as children.” He turned back and stared hard at Gerin, as if seeing him for the first time. “But you are no longer a child, and neither is Gerilia.” He hesitated, then stretched out a hand. “Thank you for pointing that out.” As Gerin accepted his hand, Thoril smiled. “I’m proud of you, son. You are turning into a fine man.”

  “That’s what Balthus keeps saying,” said Gerin, a blush forming on his ears.

  “Yes, Balthus and Adrianna,” said the elder Jedar, rising. “I must meet the saviors of my children and thank them with all my heart.” He rose and put his arm around Gerin’s shoulders. “Come, introduce me to your friends.”

  Balthus had doffed his helmet and Adrianna was fussing with his hair when Lund returned with a tray of bread, cheese, fruit and a half dozen glasses. “Please, help yourselves. I will return momentarily with wine.”

  Bo and Rory fell to wholeheartedly while Janelle and Adrianna nibbled on fruit.

  “Not hungry, Balthus?” said Rory. “You must be ill.”

  “Ha! I’m not about to soil my palate with a bunch of fruit when the old fellow said he was bringing back wine. This vineyard produces some of the finest spirits in the kingdom.”

  “That’s not what you told ‘the Lady Gerilia,’” Bo said with a snort.

  “Of course not. That one must be kept off balance and angry. I suspect she has a very charming side that she hasn’t yet discovered. When she does, there will be no denying her anything. The best defense is to have her dislike you.”

  “Why Balthus,” said Janelle, “are you saying you are afraid of her?”

  “Terrified, Lady Janelle, terrified.” Balthus glanced down the hall. “Ah, here comes the man of the hour.”

  Lund pushed in a rolling cart containing a dozen wine bottles. “If you Sirs and Ladies would like any advice on the wines, please let me know.”

  Balthus walked to the cart and examined each label. “I see you have sorted them by dry, sweet, light and heavy. What do you recommend for an early spring afternoon on a beautiful day?”

  Lund’s eyes brightened. “I can see, Sir, that you know your wine. I would recommend a light red.” He withdrew a bottle and held it out for inspection. “The master’s ‘Fauargon’ would be my choice,” he said.

  Balthus nodded.

  Expertly opening the bottle, Lund filled Balthus’ glass half-full and stepped back. Balthus walked to the window and held his glass up to the light as Gerin and his father entered the drawing room.

  “Its clarity and bouquet is like none other in the world,” announced Thoril Jedar.

  Balthus glanced at Thoril then took another look at his wine. He lowered the glass to his nose and inhaled deeply. He took a small sip, letting it linger in his mouth before swallowing. Balthus nodded. “It’s not Mostaries’ Bitter Ale, but it will do.”

  Lund jerked like he’d been punched and Thoril threw back his head and laughed. “I can see that my son’s description of his rescuers has been very accurate. You must be Sir Balthus of Steradam.”

  “I do have that honor, such as it is,” said Balthus. “Let me introduce my friends.” Balthus made the introductions and Thoril went to each one and shook hands, thanking them for their succor of his children.

  He approached Balthus last. “Sir Balthus,” he said, grasping Balthus’ hand in both of his. “I don’t know what to say, except ‘Thank You.’” Thoril’s voice quavered. “What reward could I possibly give you for my children’s lives? Name it, and if it is in my power to give, it is yours!” he said fervently. He dropped his hands and bowed his head.

  Balthus stroked his beard and took a sip of wine. “Well, how about giving us a bottle of this ‘Fauargon’ and we’ll call it even.”

  Thoril clasped a hand to his chest and staggered back a step. “A bottle of wine for both my children’s lives?”

  “Well… all right,” said Balthus. “Make it two bottles.”

  Thoril’s mouth fell open.

  A bright flash named Gerilia flew into the room.

  “Father! So here you are. I must tell you quickly about our trip, then I must be off to town to talk to Lurella about the pageant.”

  Thoril stared at his daughter. “No, Gerilia, you are to go to your room. I will talk to you later when I have finished with my guests,” he said softly.

  “No, Father, you don’t understand. I have to leave now!”

  “Gerilia, hear me!” he roared. “Go to your room!”

  Gerilia stared for a moment, then tears rolled down her face. “But Father, it will be so terrible if I don’t get to town.”

  “It will be more terrible if you do not do as I say!” shouted Thoril. “Lund, please escort my daughter to her room, lock her in and bring me the key. If she refuses, have one of the guards carry her.”

  Shock instantly dried Gerilia’s tears. “Father, you really mean it?”

  Thoril nodded to Lund who reached over and touched Gerilia’s arm. “This way please, Miss.” Lund led Gerilia from the room. Her stunned eyes never left her father’s until she was out of sight.

  Thoril turned to his guests. “I must apologize for my daughter’s bad behavior. It is something that, I promise you, will be rectified. Now, Sir Balthus, getting back to your reward. There must be something?” He looked at Balthus, then at each of his party with a questioning look.

  Balthus shook his head then gestured toward the doorway. “What you just did is something I have wanted dearly to see for the past three days. It is satisfaction enough.”

  Thoril stepped back from the group and bowed his head. “Friends, you humble me in my own home. If there is anything you need, please let me know.”

  “Well, now that you mention it,” said Balthus, placing an arm around Thoril’s shoulders, “Gerin here has been bragging about the extent of your wine cellar.”

  Gerin choked. “I never!”

  Balthus grinned and winked at Gerin.

  “Uh oh,” moaned Adrianna.

  “And I wouldn’t mind a tour of such a grand cavern,” Balthus said, turning Thoril toward the door. <
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  Adrianna had to drag Balthus from Thoril’s wine cellar. He wasn’t drinking much, only sampling here and there, but he pummeled Thoril with questions about wine-making and grape-growing. Thoril was a third-generation winemaker and had considerable knowledge of the craft, all of which Balthus tried to absorb in one short afternoon.

  Everyone except Balthus and Thoril had left the wine cellars and gone back to the drawing room to eat and sample more of Thoril’s bottled hospitality. The wine was fruity enough to be refreshing, but subtle enough to disguise its hidden kick. It was near dusk before Balthus got the swaying trio back onto their luses for the short ride to town. Balthus considered tying Janelle to her saddle but she promised she would manage.

  Balthus mounted and turned to Adrianna. “You know, Love, I think that if we ever settle down, I might become a winemaker.”

  “There’d be little profit in it with you spending all day sampling the merchandise,” she said, smiling.

  “No, really,” he said. “I think it’s something I’d like to try.”

  “Well then, when this is over we’ll pay another visit to Thoril and learn how to go about it.”

  “Balthus? A merchant?” slurred Janelle. “A wine taster possibly, but a merchant?”

  “Ah, Lady Janelle. You misunderstand me. You never heard me mention one word about selling any of it.” Tilting his head back, Balthus roared with laughter and everyone joined in.

  Entering Freetown a short time later, Balthus turned down Center Street.

  “Balthus, where to?” asked Adrianna. “The Arms is off to the left.”

  “Aye Lass, but I’m thinking of dropping the bandits’ gear and extra luses at Skinny’s,” he said. “It’ll save us time.”

  Adrianna nodded.

  Riding through the poorer section of town, Rory, Bo and Janelle gawked through the haze of Thoril Jedar’s best wine – a haze that loosened their tongues and overcame caution.

  “God this place smells awful!” said Bo, pinching his nose.

  “Yeah.” Rory pointed to the ditch in the center of the road. “That must serve as their sewer system.”

  Janelle nodded. “It’s bad enough with the luse droppings everywhere, but these people live like animals – look at that!” Janelle pointed to a woman emptying a chamber pot from a second-story window. She shook her head. “I’m surprised these people don’t all die of some dreadful disease!”

  “S’many of ‘em do,” slurred Rory. “I was in the League’s vanguard for the relief of Sigma Three. Sigma had a top-of-the-line living standard. Eight months s’after the Kraken raid knocked out their power-plants, they were living like this,” he said, waving an unsteady hand in front of him. “Disease took a bigger toll than the Kraken blasters.” Rory closed his eyes. “Under technology’s thin skin, we’re still just animals.”

  Bo just stared off into space and swayed in the saddle. “I wonder if that’s what the Gless were leaving behind when they left this plane of existence.”

  Janelle and Rory considered his words and then nodded.

  Balthus and Adrianna glanced at each other. Balthus’ eyes widened and he mouthed, “Gless?” Anxiety creased his face and his eyebrows rammed into each other.

  Adrianna hand signaled: later.

  Balthus hid his distress and nodded his head.

 

  They reined in at a run-down stone building. A wooden board with the word “Trade” crudely carved into it hung over the doorway. Balthus flipped a copper to a raggedly dressed boy seated on a box near the door.

  “Boy, tell Skinny that I’m here to pay what I owe him.” The boy snatched the copper from the air and was through the door almost before Balthus finished his sentence. It only took a minute for “Skinny” to appear.

  “Balthus, you old rogue! Good to see you. But I can’t remember you owing me anything.”

  Balthus dismounted and they shook hand to wrist. “I don’t, you old thief! But I figured it was the only way to get your fat arse out of some soft chair.”

  Skinny, all three-hundred-plus pounds of him, grinned, displaying his single front tooth. He patted Balthus on the shoulder and nodded to Adrianna. “What can I do for you today?”

  “Well, we came into some property and I wonder if you could dispose of it for us, quick like.” He led Skinny to the bandits’ luses and showed him the weapons and tack.

  Skinny smiled. “Well,” he said, wiping his hands on his already soiled shirt. “I couldn’t do it for any less than fifty percent of the sale, and only because we’re old friends.”

  “Skinny, we could dicker and dicker,” said Balthus. “But Adrianna wants to get to a warm bath and she’ll kick me to death if I make her wait any longer. How about we settle on the twenty-five percent we would eventually get to, and let it go at that?”

  “Done!” said Skinny. “It’s worth my time, too.”

  “What time? You’re just going to go back inside and drink more wine.”

  Skinny grinned. “Yes, and I hanker to get to it. Where will you be staying?”

  Balthus mounted his luse. “The Arms. Take care, Skinny.” They rode on down the street.

  Rory leaned toward Balthus and slurred, “Say, Balf. That fellow gets twenty-five percent of the sale?” He snorted. “Sounds like a lot for a minor brokering job.”

  “It is,” said Balthus, pushing Rory erect. “But Skinny will get twenty percent more for that lot than I could, so it works out well.”

  Rory’s head bobbed.

  As they rode to the Arms, Balthus’ jovial mask faded back into a worried look.