Have a Blessed Good Friday!
Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias
Strom lived on the southern outskirts of the city
where he grazed sheep and pigs. A stone and
wooden building with high ceiling served as the
paddocks. Elizabaeg hid the wagon and horses
within, repositioned her goods so that the boys
could sleep inside the wagon comfortably, and then spoke with Strom privately.
Their host was an older man with only one eye who
was on the declining years of vitality. His frame
was lean and his skin, tough as leather, now
stretched and sagged over his bones. At one time
he would have been as strong as an ox, but the
years and deprivations of living beneath
Calephas's boot had robbed him of all but what he needed to tend his flocks.
While his mother was occupied, Lindsey donned an
extra bear-hide cloak and followed Pharcellus
back through the streets of Fjellvidden. His
older brother rather the dragon masquerading as
his older brother led him quickly between the
rows of decrepit houses that slumped against each
other. They waited at the end of each alley to be
sure that the streets were empty before they
dared to cross. Lindsey felt terribly exposed and
a little frightened every time they were forced
to cross one of the larger streets. But
Pharcellus held his hand, and the two of them were able to do it together.
With night coming soon the streets were mostly
empty to begin with. Only once did they see a
bored squad of soldiers walking down the street.
But they entered one of the taverns before even
passing where the two boys hid. They saw no one else.
They found Vysterag gathering nets and oars in
his shop. The blond-haired northerner looked them
both over before grunting, Did anyone see you?
No, Master, Lindsey replied, still clutching
Pharcellus's hand. No one saw us.
Good. No one will notice a man and two boys
going to docks to fish. Here, Andrig, you can
carry the lantern. Chellag, help me with the oars and nets.
Lindsey did as he was told, and wrapped his hands
around the brass ring attached to the top of the
oil lantern. He noted that it was designed with a
metal hood that could focus the light if lowered.
He made a mental note of where it was before
following Pharcellus and Vysterag out of the shop
and around to the back. A wooden staircase
descended along the steep bank, paralleling an
old ruined stone staircase that was swallowed by
vegetation, snow, and ice. The sun didn't shine
on the bank, and it quickly became even colder,
and their feet struck patches of ice every few steps.
He lost count of how many steps there were
sometime after twelve so started over again and
got just as high again when they reached the
bottom. The river had bored out a section of the
hillside, and the crumbling rocks created a calm
basin in which ships and fishermen could move
about without being swept downstream by the very
strong seasonal current. The wharves were a mix
of wood and old stone, and apart from two
caravels that hadn't been used since before the
winter, there was a mix of a dozen smaller craft.
Vysterag selected a dinghy, but did not bother to
raise the sail. He set the nets along the port
side, and gestured for the two of them to climb aboard.
He took the lantern from Lindsey and hung it on a
hook at the bow before untying the boat from the
dock. He then sat down in the stern and began
paddling backward. Pharcellus sat in the bow and
began paddling as well. Lindsey sat down on the
starboard side and used the last paddle. The
water splashed on his arms but he couldn't feel it through his thick hides.
Once they were clear of the docks, Vysterag
turned the dinghy to face upriver toward the
castle. The sky overhead was clear but quickly
darkening. The gibbous moon gave the water a
faint glow. They rowed in silence for a few
minutes, moving east beyond the other ships, and
especially the two caravels that lurked like
ominous shadows. Lindsey ducked lower against the
hull as they slid past them. Then he slipped a
few smooth stones he'd found from his the little
pouch at his side and skipped them across the water.
What are you doing? Vysterag asked him in a sudden harsh whisper.
Lindsey crouched lower and said, Nothing. He
hated to admit it to himself, but he sounded far
too defensive and childish. Glumly, he shoved the
stones back in his pouch and decided to try rowing again.
Vysterag stopped rowing once they felt the
current begin to push them back. He took an
anchor and heaved it overboard, arresting their
backward momentum, and letting them drift in
place. The current aligned the boat so that the
bow and lantern were pointed toward the castle.
This will do, he said softly. No one can hear
us out here, but keep your voices down. There
might not be any ice on this water, but it will
still kill you before we can warm you if you fall in.
Lindsey eased back from the side of the hull and
sat just beneath the yardarm. Vysterag crouched
over to the fish nets and began unrolling them
from one end. Chellag, come help me with this.
We have to at least look like we're fishing.
Pharcellus scuttled over and together the two of
them unrolled the fish net and cast it into the
water. The current dragged it behind them, but
they were able to drag it back in without
difficulty. A few fish were caught in the net,
and these they dumped into the small hold beneath where Lindsey sat.
Good, Vysterag noted. Poor catch here means we
can keep moving closer to the castle. Can either of you see anything?
Lindsey moved to the lantern and lowered the hood
so that the light didn't shine back on him. The
castle loomed before them even though it was
easily another hundred yards upriver. The
northern wing hunched onto a ledge of rock
jutting up from the river, though a portion
descended beneath the surface of the water, iron
grates rusted and old letting the river flow
through the space. The stone would eventually rot
away, but during the Summer and Fall the river
level would be low enough and the current slow
enough that repairs could be made when necessary.
But despite this, there were no low windows of
parapets that could be reached even by the most
seasoned of climbers. There was no way to enter
the castle, or to escape it, from the northern wing.
The rest of the castle was more conventional
though still a fortress against all invaders. The
curtain wall at one time enclosed all of
Fjellvidden, but now the outer bailey had been
abandoned and all defenses had been turned to the
inner bailey. Even from the river Lindsey could
see that guards manned the battlements, but he
couldn't quite see what weapons they carried, nor how many there were.
He could hear them cast the net a second time and
then a third time while he studied the castle.
The soldiers he could see were all human, though
judging by their build, many of them were not
from Arabarb. Who were they then and where did
they come from? He asked Vysterag.
Remnants of Nasoj's army that didn't want to go
back in defeat. He has the pass to the Giantdowns
blockaded in case Nasoj or anyone else should attack.
Is most of his army foreign? Pharcellus asked
as he tossed flopping fish into the hold.
I don't know. But it seems that way. But he
still has enough natives to keep the entire
country from going up in flames. But there's only so much we can take.
So why is the Resistance so small? Lindsey
asked, not turning from his contemplation. He was
beginning to make out more details, but they were
still too far away to be sure.
The mage. If not for him, we'd have put that
monster's head on a pike already. Vysterag sat
down in the stern and grunted. Let's row a
little further in. There has to be more fish up ahead.
Both Pharcellus and Lindsey began rowing at the
bow even before the shipwright had raised the
anchor. By the time Vysterag began to row, they
were cutting across the current back into calmer
waters. The castle neared and its shadows
stretched up and across the northern bluffs.
Lindsey pointed in delight when the torches along
the battlements were lit one by one. And more
were lit inside the castle. Now he could see the
windows along the entire western flank of the
castle. Most were too narrow even for a boy like
him. They were arrow slits solely for defense,
and, he realized with some dismay, almost all of
them pointed toward the river. But there were a
few balconies overlooking the water that might
provide a means of escape if he were truly desperate.
By the time Vysterag dropped the anchor again,
they were reaching the lip of the cove in to
which the docks had been built. They could thin
strands of silvery light racing back and forth
across the river's surface just ahead of them; if
they dared row into that they'd be swept
downstream too quickly to return to the safety of the cove.
This is as far as we can go, Vysterag pointed
out with a sigh. The fish should be good here.
Put your back into it, Chellag. Andrig, keep watch for us.
Lindsey nodded and turned the lantern with one
hand to make it less obvious that they were
looking at the castle. Instead, he focused on the
shield of land running along the river's bank to
the base of the fortress. High walls lined the
top of the bank, but they reflected the light
well, giving Lindsey the ability to see the foundations.
Nestled in a crook of the castle, he saw a small
seadoor and yawl anchored there. He couldn't
discern any details in the door, but he knew that
even if he could reach it, it would be locked
from the inside. And with the current flowing
against them there was no way to reach it. The
yawl looked big enough for a dozen sailors, and
small enough for two or three. If he could find a
way to get through that door, it would make for
the perfect escape route. Or the perfect
entrance. But it would take magic of a kind he
did not possess to bridge that distance. Even a
force of soldiers riding the current down from
upriver would be swept and dashed against the
northern bluffs as they passed the castle.
Lindsey sighed and turned away from the recessed
alcove and studied the towers. The main castle
had a sloped roof like a longhouse framed at the
four corners by squat towers. Each tower was
peaked with a cone. He doubted Pharcellus would
find any place he could land as a dragon. Despite
that hardship, he made note of as much of the
castle details as he could while the other two fished.
After almost a half hour of scrutiny, Vysterag
announced, Well, we've filled half our hold. We
ought not linger. Are you satisfied?
Enough, Lindsey admitted. Even with the moon
shining over the city and the stars bright in the
sky it was becoming increasingly difficult to
make out any details. It'll have to do. Let's go back.
Vysterag hauled the anchor and let the current
push them back toward the wharves. The shipwright
corrected their course, while Pharcellus and
Lindsey rowed to speed the dinghy along. Within
ten minutes they were easing back against the
dock. Lindsey took the lantern while Vysterag and
Pharcellus carried the net with their catch back
up the stairs. They'd caught at least a few dozen
if not fifty decent sized salmon. He hated to
imagine what climbing the stairs would be like with a full net!
They saw no soldiers on the way back up and
reached the shop without incident. Vysterag
gestured to a large wooden open-faced box and
said, Dump the fish here. I'll take care of
them. You two have done enough for one evening.
Are you sure you don't need any help? Pharcellus asked.
I usually do this on my own. I'll be fine. Now
get back to Strom's. The patrols are always worse after dark.
They thanked him and returned to the twilight
city. Once off the river they could see the last
tip of the sun's rays as it set behind the long
hilly slopes to the south. The moon was in the
southeast but climbing quickly. This far north it
would never rise very high, but high enough that
they could see everything clearly enough.
Lindsey slipped his hand into the teenager's and
the two of them darted from alley to alley
retracing their steps from an hour ago. They had
crossed only two streets when they ran into a
trio of soldiers coming out of a side door
directly into the alley. The door clipped Lindsey
in the side and he stumbled to the ground, his
hood thrown back as he fell. The three soldiers
stared at him for a few seconds before they began
to smile. Well, what do we have here. Out after
dark, huh? They began to laugh.
Pharcellus kicked the nearest one in the groin so
quickly that the other two were still laughing
even as he crumpled. With a swift tug, Pharcellus
dragged Lindsey to his feet and they ran through
the twisting passages, across the next street,
right behind another patrol, and into the alleys
again. Sounds of pursuit followed them a moment later.
Go that way and cut them off, they heard a hard
voice shout. And it was answered with voices
before them in the alley. Pharcellus yanked
Lindsey hard down a side passage that was pitch
black. Lindsey stubbed his toe on something and
had to clench his teeth to keep from crying out.
He so wished his mother were here.
The dark path continued for a few feet before
turning. Pharcellus didn't seem to have any
trouble avoiding the walls that pressed close on
either side as the shouting voices echoed around
them. Lindsey bumped into them with nearly every other step.
After the third turn they saw a sliver of light
ahead. Pharcellus stopped, sniffed the air, and
then proceeded more cautiously. Lindsey
swallowed, tigthening his grip on his big
brother's hand. Step by step they neared the
shaft of light. Six steps away and Lindsey could
see that it opened onto another alley. Three
steps away and he could see that the alley was
narrow but that a turn to the right would bring
them to the next street and into the moonglow.
One step away and one of the soldiers stepped in
front of the opening and grabbed Pharcellus by
the shirt and dragged them both out. Pharcellus
let go of Lindsey's hand, but the boy was too
close; the soldier grabbed him too. His face was
angry, but he didn't have any weapons in hand.
And to their surprise he did not shout, only
whispered. If he wasn't looking for another boy
for his bed, I'd let the others harass you. Stay
right here and I'll make sure they don't find you.
I don't trust you, Pharcellus said in a voice
that betrayed no fear. Lindsey tried not to quiver next to him.
Good. Now stay put. The soldier let go of them
both and walked out into the street. He was a
fairly young man, Lindsey realized, just young
enough to have been a potential victim of
Calephas's lusts when he'd first come to Arabarb
ten years ago. And then he disappeared down the
street, running and shouting. This way! I saw
them go this way! His voice and footsteps receded.
Both of them held their breath as they backed up
into the darkened corridor. A few more booted
feet ran past the opening, but none of them came
down the alley. They waited for another minute
but didn't hear anyone else. Tentatively,
Pharcellus stepped back out into the alley, and
then glanced up and down the street. He tugged on
Lindsey's hand and the two of them raced across.
A few minutes later they were slipping through
the doors to Strom's paddocks to join the
bleating sheep and grunting pigs in the warmth
and safety. They saw neither Strom nor Elizabaeg
waiting for them. Lindsey leaned against one of
the sheep pens and breathed heavily. Why did he let us go?
They may serve him, but they don't like him.
Pharcellus suggested softly as he stretched and
looked around. I thought you wanted to be captured?
Lindsey licked his lips and then shook his head.
I do. Just not yet. It's too early. None of the
others will be here for another two to three
days. I can't risk being captured just yet. We're not ready for it.
Very true, Pharcellus agreed. He walked over to
the where the wagon was stowed in a corner at the
other end of the paddock. The animals bleated at
him as he passed but otherwise ignored them.
Lindsey followed and saw the dragon peering into the wagon hold.
Lindsey chuckled without mirth. Are you ready to
sleep already? I don't want to get back in there
just yet. Been in there for three days.
Pharcellus turned back around and smiled. He
twirled one of his short beard braids with his
free hand. Just making sure everything is ready
here. Did you find what you were looking for?
Looking for?
At the castle.
Oh! Aye, I believe so. There's a few ways to
escape from there that might work. But it is
still heavily defended and we're going to need to
breach the gatehouse quickly once I kill Calephas
and Gmork. Have you noticed that nobody wants to
say their names here? Vysterag called Gmork the
mage, and everyone calls Calephas the monster.
They are afraid of magical scrying. To say their
names is to invite their attention. Pharcellus
glanced beyond the walls of the paddocks as if he
could see straight into the castle where those
two malefactors waited. We shouldn't say them either.
Lindsey rubbed his hands together and frowned.
Can you see any of their magic?
I've looked when I could. There is definitely
something vile taking place in that castle. I
couldn't see what. Mayhap others better trained
would know. I'm still pretty young and
inexperienced. Flying that fox and his friends around doesn't count for much.
The sudden onset of modesty made Lindsey laugh,
but he couldn't quite say why. But you tell such great stories about them!
That I am good at doing! Pharcellus replied
with a wide grin. And I've already figured out
quite a few that will impress anyone who listens when we get back.
Would you tell me one? Lindsey's sudden good
humor, and the prospect of a story, banished all
the fears that had rattled him in the last ten
minutes. We don't have anything else to do.
Pharcellus climbed up on the wagon and gestured
for him to do the same. Lindsey gladly did so.
Well, the dragon said with a faint laugh, I
guess one won't hurt. And this is one you don't
know. It's about my trip along the coast with the birds.
Lindsey cuddled up in the quilts and listened with rapt attention.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
!DSPAM:4db18d7f97241804284693!
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