by R C Gray
“I can’t fix you,” she said, rubbing the fawn’s neck. “Your wounds are too deep.”
Not wanting the animal to suffer, she pulled her knife from its sheath and positioned herself over the creature, talking low into its ear. “Be at ease. Go and roam the endless fields and woods in the next life.”
Sliding her dagger between the animal's ribs, she pierced its heart, stroking its neck until it closed its eyes one last time. “You’ll be at peace now,” she said quietly, and she truly believed that.
Taking a moment to say a word of thanks to I’lurian for the life of the fawn, and food to sustain her body, she cut into the deer.
After cleaning the fawn, she hefted it onto her shoulders and began making her way back to her cottage. She was hoping to have the deer skinned and on the fire by the time Faine, and possibly Skara came back to camp. As she made her way through the forest, she could feel a set of eyes watching her from a distance, getting closer as she walked. Quickening her pace, she made her way back to camp and set the deer on the ground near the cottage, and drew her knife and one-handed axe, her eyes darting to any movement around her. Hearing a branch break behind her, she wheeled around, weapons ready.
In front of her stood a large, grey wolf, its skin torn and ragged on its lean body.
“Undriel,” she said, her hand over her heart, “you scared me. Why are you sneaking around? I’ve no time to play now. Maybe I’ll give you a piece of meat when I get it skinned, but first things first.”
Renna put away her weapons and walked over to the wolf, rubbing its ears as she sat down on the ground in front of it. Placing her hands on the sides of its face, she bowed its head, placing her forehead against his. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she read his thoughts and looked back through his memories. She could see the trees going by in a blur as Undriel ran through the forest, chasing a scent on the light breeze. She saw a group of mercenaries, some with a large emblem of a flame on their chests, chain a dwarf to a horse and pull him up the road as he struggled to keep his head from being smashed into the dirt. She watched as a man kicked the beaten dwarf and have him loaded back into the cage, the iron bars shutting behind him. And she saw the dwarf stare into the eyes of the wolf, a look of surprise and hope on his face as the wagon moved down the road towards Banrielle.
A Bottle of the Finest
Skara and Faine walked for a little over a mile before they reached the end of the woodline and stepped out into a sprawling field of foxtail wheat. The rust-red and cream-colored kernels swayed and rustled with the wind as the two stopped to take in the view. To the east and west of the city, small patches of trees were scattered between the homesteads and farms farther in the distance, with Banrielle to the north straight ahead. The town looked lonely and bleak in the dreary, overcast morning. Its weathered wooden buildings and grey flecked stone wall, collapsed in several places, ran along the border of the city, giving it an unwelcoming look.
A small line of wagons could be seen on the road heading into the city, possibly a caravan selling or delivering supplies. Skara and Faine glanced at each other and made their way out of the field and onto the dirt road leading into town.
The road was deeply rutted, and murky puddles of water filled the holes. Wagon tracks left curved lines in the mud, and the pair had to walk on the grass and pine needles beside the road to avoid getting their boots stuck in the thick muck. Passing through the front gate, several wagons lined the sporadically cobbled streets, setting up tents and getting prepared to sell their wares in the market. Farther into the town, a group of buildings stood around a central square with a stone well in the center. Walking carefully to avoid horse droppings or crowds of people coming to look at the merchant caravans, the two made their way to the center of the square.
Drawing the rope to pull the bucket up from the well, Faine stuck the dipper into the cold water, taking a long drink before he handed it to Skara. Several dirty looks and muttered curse words came their way as people eyed the strange elf and goblin drinking their water. Although goblins were more tolerated here than other towns or cities nearby, they were still generally disliked and avoided by most people.
Seeing the dirty looks as people walked by, Faine took the dipper back from Skara and took another long drink, moving slowly and turning his head so that anyone looking could see him drinking. When he was finished, he pushed the bucket back into the well, not bothering to ease it down with the rope. Hearing the splash, several of the men close by looked at him with scowls showing on their faces. Faine stared back, his green eyes looking through them. Turning his attention towards Skara, he gently hung the dipper back onto a nail in the post. One of the men that had been standing in the group turned and scurried down an alley and out of sight.
“So, where do you need to go first?” Faine said, looking at the buildings around the square. “I mean, you know where I’m heading. Been a lot of excitement lately, and I could use a morning drink.”
Skara looked at Faine, a slight frown on his face. “Did you have to draw so much attention? I don’t like everyone staring at me.”
“They’re not staring at you, Skara. They’re staring at me. How often do people see a ruggedly handsome elf walk into town?” Faine ran his hand through his hair and leaned against the wooden frame of the small roof covering the well, one arm above his head propping him up.
Skara sighed and looked at the buildings around the square. “I need to go see Javadi. He’s the merchant that buys my web.”
Faine took his arm off the pole and looked at Skara. “Didn’t you say it needed to be soaked in something first because it’s sticky?”
“It does, but he has a barrel of it in the back of his shop. I don’t do it because if there’s any residue left, it could ruin his weaving wheel. And if that happens, it’ll be his fault, not mine. So, I made some for him to keep and charged him for it.”
“Wait, you made it? How’d you figure out how to do that?”
“A lot of trying. I needed a way to get the web off after going into the caves. I’m sure there’s more than one way to do it, but I just use strong alcohol and certain herbs to make it work.”
“Aren’t you worried he’ll figure out what it is?”
“He might. But he still needs someone to get the web. He won’t be doing that himself. It takes quite a few things to make the mixture, and unless he can figure it all out by smell, he’ll never get it,” Skara said, glancing up at Faine.
Faine nodded his head and looked down the square towards the shops. “Then let’s go see Javadi. I’d like to see his shop. If he buys web, who knows what else he might have.”
Skara and Faine walked to the far end of the square and down an alley leading back behind several of the taller buildings. As they turned the corner, a small shop came into view. The blue paint on its walls had chipped off in small patches and showed the weathered boards underneath. Various sizes of decorative knots were tied onto the wall around the front door, and the windows were covered in a film that made the building look dark inside. Walking up the stairs leading onto the porch, Skara knocked on the door before he opened it and stepped inside with Faine following behind, unaware of a man watching them from around the corner of a nearby building.
The inside of the shop was dimly lit by several glass orbs filled with dirt and glowing mushrooms hanging sporadically from the ceiling. Long shelves lined the walls and were stacked with scrolls, books, small trinkets, and jars filled with clear liquid and what appeared to be spiders and other various creatures that Faine didn’t recognize.
Looking down, he could see a dusty leather map stretched out on a table, and he traced his finger around the edge of the continents drawn onto its surface. “Here’s where we are,” he said, pointing to a small town near the southern end of Uthrea. “See, here’s the Surwynd cave.”
Skara leaned over and peered at the map, looking at the location Faine was pointing at. “Where are you from?”
“I’m from here, M
urwood,” Faine said, pointing to a spot east of Banrielle. “Right here, near the forest and the river.”
“And where is Sonosa?” Skara said, slightly grinding his teeth.
“A Sonosan man, eh? I thought the accent sounded familiar. It’s so faint that it’s hard to make out. But it’s right here.” Faine said, tapping his finger at a spot almost directly north of their location. “It would take a few days of riding to get there, but I guess you already know that if that’s where you’re from.”
Skara straightened himself and walked away from the map towards the front counter. “Javadi, you in here?”
At his call, a short, stocky man emerged from a back room. His thin red tunic was covered in splatters of color, and his brown pants looked wet near the waste. His short, black hair was ruffled, and his dark skin was covered in what was either sweat or water from the dyeing tanks in the back. Wiping his hands on the sides of his pants, he cleared off a section of the counter in front of him and rested his hands on the countertop.
“It’s been a while. I was beginnin’ to wonder if somethin’ happened to you out there. Had a few people askin’ ‘bout fabric, but I didn’t have an answer for ‘em.”
Skara shifted on his feet and looked around the room, letting his gaze settle on a white banner with a large, orange flame accented in red hanging on the wall. He recognized the symbol and knew that it was used by the Brothers of the Flame in Sonosa. Although they claimed to be followers of Tuvak, they were known for the way they used violence and manipulation to gather people to their cause. Any that opposed them outright were usually taught a lesson. There were several times that he could remember that the brothers led raids among the inhabitants of the lower, poorer districts, and nothing was ever done about it. From his experience, the brothers were a plague on the city, rotting it from the inside out.
Skara clenched his fists, and his face twisted into a sneer as he looked up over the counter at Javadi. “Looking to join up with the brothers, or are you just showing your support?”
Wrenching his hands together, Javadi glanced briefly at the banner and began to tap his finger softly against the counter. “That uh, just recently got dropped in. Hoping I might be able to, uh, get a bit of coin from it. You know how those things go. But, uh...what is that brings you in? Some more webs, I’m hopin’,” Javadi said, looking down at the sack in Skara’s hand. “I could really use ‘em. Been dyeing wool all mornin’ and could use another project.”
Turning his attention back to the shopkeeper, Skara swung the sack up onto the counter, letting it hit with a hard thud. “I have a few to sell.”
Javadi opened the sack, looking at several loose balls of webbing clinging to each other at the bottom. “A fine bunch. People will be rightly pleased with this, I’m sure. Now, it looks like one, two, three, four, five, six bundles of web. That’ll be...,” Javadi turned his eyes to the ceiling, and his lips moved silently while he calculated the payment in his head. “That’ll be four silver, five copper.”
“That’ll be six silver, eight copper.”
Javadi’s mouth sagged into a grimace as he looked down at Skara. “That seems a bit steep for six bundles of web. I could-”
“You could pay me what I asked. These are big bundles, and it nearly cost me my life to get them. You made it clear that several people had asked about them, and I know you want to fill the orders. But you can’t do that without the spider-silk. Now unless you’re going into the cave yourself to get it...,”
Faine looked back and forth between the two, the edges of his lips turning into a slight smile.
“I can’t do it. I won’t go any higher than what I said.”
Skara nodded towards Javadi and quickly grabbed his bag from the counter and flung it over his shoulder, turning to walk towards the door.
“Wait,” Javadi said. “Six silver. I can’t go any higher. I’d have to sell that web before I could offer more.”
Skara stopped and turned around to face the stocky man. “Six silver and that old leather map, and you have a deal.”
Javadi sighed and rubbed his chin. “Fine.”
Skara brought the sack back to counter and emptied its contents into a metal bin on the floor. Holding out his hand, Javadi handed him six silver coins.”
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Skara said, placing the coins into a small pouch on his belt. The two turned to leave, grabbing the map before heading out into the crisp air, shutting the door behind them.
As the two walked back up the alley and into the square, Faine stopped and looked at Skara. “You alright? You seemed a bit agitated back there.”
“I’m fine. Let’s keep moving. I still have to go to the herb shop and get a few things before we have that drink,” Skara said, continuing up the path towards the herbalist.
“I’m here if you need me,” Faine said, still standing in the alley, a smile spreading wide across his face. “I’m not afraid to be your rock. Skara, can you hear me? Hey...” Faine hurried to catch up, dodging people as he moved swiftly through the crowd.
Several of the buildings were decorated with long ropes covered in deep purple and red banners for the upcoming Wyldernacht celebration. Although it was still weeks away, many homes and shops had already begun to set two candles in their window to represent Sigurn and Ingrid’s victory over the darkness and the Black Dragon of Edinmoore. The candles would be burned briefly each night, until finally being left to burn out entirely on the night of the celebration, representing the two heroine’s light fading from the world.
Large groups of people were scattered throughout the square, looking through the merchants lined up and down the road leading towards the gate of the town. Women in wool dresses carefully handled yards of colorful linen and wool at a nearby cart, talking and laughing while they each held up cloth up to their chest to get opinions on whether or not it would make a pretty dress. Bards and players stood on corners telling stories and singing songs of long vanquished foes, deeds long past, or the dreadful high elf, Emin, that brought about the shattering and the release of dark magic into the world through his hubris.
Near the west side of the square, a roaring fire was burning, and a three-tiered grate hung over the flames, each holding different meats or vegetables that beckoned people over with their enticing smells.
Faine’s stomach growled as he walked by the fire, staring longingly at the cooking food. “Skara, I’ll meet you in the shop. I’m too hungry to pass up some hot food,” he said, running over the fire.
Stopping on the front stoop of the Greencap apothecary, Skara watched as Faine looked up and down the three levels of roasting foods, pointing to different meats and talking to the people around him. Glancing quickly around the busy streets, he opened the door to the herb shop and stepped inside. The sweet and spicy smell of flowers and herbs wafted through the store as Skara closed the door behind him. The floor was covered with a dark blue rug with images of leaves and trees covering its length. Sconces hung on the walls, each burning a candle scented with various flower extracts. Inhaling deeply, he tried to recognize the different herbs in each one.
Several tables stood against the walls, each with a pestle and mortar, a scale, and several bowls used for holding herbs and ingredients. The counter was sanded to a smooth finish and had been stained dark by using the husks of walnuts. Standing a short distance away, a plump woman stood with her hands on her hips, watching the goblin approach. A long braid of blonde hair hung past her face and over the shoulder of her dark red blouse that Skara thought was cut far too low for this time of year.
“What can I get for you?” The woman said, glaring down at Skara. “But before you answer, know this — I don’t have any handouts to give you if that’s what you’re after. And I’ve not one bit of interest in seeing you sing, dance or juggle. There’s enough of the outside, and I’ll not have it in the shop. And if you’re here to rob me, I’ll cut you down where you stand.”
“I don’t sing or dance, and I’
ve been here before,” Skara said, reaching into his coin pouch. “I’m here to buy, not to rob you. If there’s a problem here, go fetch Mary.”
“Oh, you’re a friend of Mary. Then I do apologize,” the woman said, smoothing down her black skirt. “I didn’t mean no offense. I only started nearly a month ago, and the mistress is out today trading with the merchants for more goods. She left me to look after the shop while she’s away. But with all the travelers passing through, there’s been too many half-wits coming through the door -,”
The door to the shop quickly opened as Faine stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Hey, I got you somethin’ to eat.” In his hands were two long kabobs of roasted venison and pork, separated by chunks of purple potato and charred carrot. His smile quickly faded as he looked over to the woman behind the counter and saw her eyes wide in shock.
“Out!” the woman shouted. “Get out the shop before you drip meat juices all over the rug.”
Faine quickly backed up, running into the door behind him. “I’ll just wait for you out here,” he said, shifting the kabobs to one hand as he fumbled to find the door handle. Opening the door behind him, he quickly walked out, shutting the door quietly behind him.
“So, I’m here to buy,” Skara said again. “I need a few antidotes...and some of the herbs kept in the back room.”
“What herbs in the back room? Everything we have is on our shelves.”
Skara looked up at the woman and scratched his head, trying to remember what Mary, the owner of the shop, had told him to say if there was ever anyone else tending the shop. Eyes lighting up, he walked closer to the counter and leaned in. “The dark moon rises and shines over deep waters,” he said, keeping his voice low.
“Be vigilant, lest they carry you away,” the woman said, sliding Skara a piece of paper with the available potions and herbs written on it.
