Bridge Quest

by Pdmac

  Karl watched in fascination as Raquel talked to the hawk whose head twitched as it listened. Waiting until the raptor was again airborne, he walked over to her.

  “What did you tell it?”

  “I told her that I wanted her to scout out the road ahead of us. She told me that she’d already scanned the area, looking for food and that the forest is not as wide as we think. Once we get to the other side, there’s empty land where Cyril had his army chop down trees to make a sort of no man’s land between his domain and the rest.”

  “The hawk told you this?” Karl knitted his brows in disbelief.

  “Well,” she smiled, “not in so many words, but she was pretty pissed that Cyril had destroyed so much of the forest. She said the road leads to two checkpoints with guards: one on this side of the forest, the other across the no man’s land at Cyril’s border. After that the road goes through the forest until the next village. It’s a good sized town but most of the homes are abandoned. My guess is that once Cyril closed the borders, businesses probably folded and folks had to move where the jobs were.”

  Though listening, Karl seemed pensive.

  Annabeth peered at him. “What?”

  “If we’re going to make any progress, I’m beginning to think we need to take the shortest route and avoid towns and cities as places where we might get side-tracked.”

  “What about the mist, and the orcs and goblins and everything else that goes bump in the night?” Raquel said.

  “There is that,” he nodded in agreement. “My concern is encountering sorceresses and people like that.” He shifted his eyes to glance at Annabeth.

  “Don’t blame me that every woman wants you,” she said with a sweet smile.

  Karl rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Still, we’re gonna need food and supplies. We’ll make the decision after we hit the next town.”

  Ten minutes later, true to the hawk’s words, they came to a guard shack where the forest abruptly ended. Raquel called a halt as soon as she saw the shack. A quick scan and a listen told her it was unoccupied.

  “They probably left when Cyril’s army came through,” Karl softly said. Turning to the others, he motioned for them to stay put as he and Raquel, using the building as cover, made their way forward.

  The shack was a small one room affair, with two cots, a pantry, and a stove used for both heating and cooking. A propped shutter covered a wide window allowing Karl to observe the long strip of land that separated the two domains. Trees had been hurriedly cut down and only the splintered stumps remained. Opposite them, about 200 meters away, where the road went into the wide expanse of forest was another guard shack with two seemingly very bored guards sitting on their stools tilted against the side of the building. Studying them a bit more, Karl realized they were asleep.

  Folding his arms, he let out a soft sigh. “Wish I knew where Sakura was.”

  “She knows what she’s doing,” Raquel replied with calm assurance.

  “I don’t question that. My concern is that she knows where we’re going.”

  “She’ll show up soon enough,” Raquel replied.

  Karl studied the gap between the two guard shacks. “Let’s have some fun,” he grinned, exiting the shack and waving the others forward.

  They were halfway across the no man’s land when he called out, “Look alive over there. We’re coming through.”

  The startled guards bolted upright, upending their stools, momentarily groggy as to the sound of the voice for they both looked behind them only to discover that a group with a large berserker, a beautiful sorceress, a gorgeous ranger, a Viking and the others was already upon them.

  “Stop right there,” one guard commanded, drawing his sword. He was an older man more used to city life than being out here in the middle of nowhere, pleased that he had been left behind when the army marched, but more than irritated that he had been forced to leave his market stall to guard an entry point that had seen little use.

  The other guard was even older with a salt and pepper beard and thinning hair. The bushy eyebrows covered lethargic eyes. Sizing up the group before him, his first inclination was to step aside and wave them through.

  “Fine guards you are,” Karl chastised. “An entire army could have crept across while you two slept.”

  “Ain’t nuthin happenin’ since Cyril left,” the older guard lamely explained. “We wuz only takin’ a few winks.”

  “Well you better pay attention. Cyril’s army was defeated. Cyril is dead. Orcs and trolls are running wild.”

  Both guards’ mouth gaped wide in shock until the older guard scrunched his eyebrows. “Say… how we know yer tellin’ the truth?”

  “Because we were there,” Karl confidently answered. “After defeating the king, Cyril marched up to Westhaven. That’s where we helped defeat him. Last we saw, his head was perched atop a pole outside the city walls. Even now, Queen Gwen is assembling the rest of her armies and is headed this way. If I were you, I’d make sure she knew where your loyalties lie.”

  “What’re we gonna do?” the other guard moaned. “We can’t leave our post here, otherwise we’re in big trouble.” He turned to the other guard. “Leastwise I think we’d be in trouble. Whadda you think Dex?”

  “Hard to say, Bron. The way I figure, iff’n Cyril’s dead and there ain’t much o’ his army left, what’s it matter? Besides, ain’t you got a market stall?”

  “The ol’ lady’s working it while I’m here,” Bron replied. “T’aint like we’re getting’ much action anyway. Still, it’d be nice to sleep in m’own bed.”

  “I don’t think abandoning your post would be wise right now,” Karl interrupted. “My recommendation would be that you stay put. In a week or two, this area here is going be humming. My guess is that this guard post will most likely be eliminated.”

  “Hot damn,” the older man said, slapping his thigh. “’Bout time. Mebbe the town’ll come back now.”

  Bron studied Karl and the others. “If’n you all was there, why you here now and where you headin’?”

  “We’re mercenaries,” Karl explained. “We’ve done our job, got paid and now we’re heading south for new adventures. Didn’t see the sense of simply hanging around in Westhaven or Durness. Where’s the closest town?”

  “That’d be Berismo,” Dex answered, “straight ahead on this road, ‘bout a hour. T’aint much there though. Gotta a couple o’ taverns and a smithy and such, but most folks is gone to Hillfurt.”

  “Hillfurt?” Karl said.

  “That’s where Cyril and anyone important live. He calls it the capital, but everyone knows Tal Olca’s the real capital. Been that way long before my granddaddy’s great-granddaddy’s granddaddy was born.”

  Bron suddenly frowned. “You say there’s orcs and trolls running crazy?”

  “Yes, but we killed a good number of them. They were scattered. Again, my guess is that they will work their ways to their own lands and nurse their wounds for a while, but then they will seek retribution for their stinging defeat. Hopefully by then the kingdom will be united.”

  “How far is it to the bridge from here?” Annabeth interrupted.

  “The bridge over the river afore ya get to Berismo?” Bron frowned, wondering what was so important about a simple wooden span across a river. “T’aint far. You’ll come to it right afore ya gets to the main gate.”

  “No,” Annabeth corrected herself. “I mean the bridge to the next island.”

  “Island?” Dex shook his head in confusion. “Don’t know nuthin’ ‘bout no island.”

  “You don’t?” she replied, surprised.

  “Nope,” he shrugged. “Lived m’whole life right here in Berismo. Not like I needed t’go anywhere else.”

  “We understand,” Karl interjected. “We’d better get going before it gets dark.”

  “T’aint far,” Bron reassured them, pointing down the road.

  “Thank you,” Karl replied. “Good luck to you both.”

  By
the time Karl and company were out of earshot, the two guards were excitedly discussing business opportunities when Berismo returned to its former glory.

  The road to Berismo was sporadically dotted with small tumbled down farm houses, the forest reclaiming what had once been farmland. Only one of the houses was still occupied as evidenced by the smoke curling out of the chimney. Yet no one appeared nor were there farm animals one would expect.

  Berismo turned out to be larger than any of the group expected, for once they passed the edge of the forest, the city spread before them. Though not as a large as Westhaven or Durness, it was the most substantial town since leaving Durness. Yet what had once been a thriving city now resembled a ghost town. The walls surrounding the city, broken in spots, were covered in moss and ivy. The gate was open and a single guard, a frail-looking middle aged man sat outside, beneath the barbican. His attention was absorbed with the book he held in his lap.

  So intent was his focus that he didn’t see or hear Karl and company until they were almost upon him and Karl cleared his throat. Startled, the man jumped up, clutching his tome.

  “Must be a good book,” Karl smiled.

  “It is,” he replied, warily regarding the rest of the team.

  “Is the burgomaster in town?”

  “Of course. Where else would he be?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Karl answered. “As is obvious, we’re not from here. Where can we find him?”

  “He still lives in the middle of the city.” He pointed to the open gate. “How did you get past the guards at the border?”

  “They let us pass, especially after we told them the news about Cyril.” Karl started to walk forward when the man grabbed his arm. Karl felt the earnestness, yet there was a weakness to the grip.

  “What’s happened?” the man asked.

  “Cyril is dead and his army scattered,” Raquel answered. “We are here to tell the Burgomaster.”

  The man’s eyes lit up and his head tilted back as he chortled with joy. “Praise the gods my prayers have been answered. C’mon with me. I’ll take you there.”

  “You’re glad Cyril is dead?” Annabeth asked as they followed the man into the city proper.

  “Who wouldn’t be?” he replied as they walked along deserted streets.

  Three story houses jammed side-by-side lined the street, their shutters and doors faded. The ever present ivy hid many entrances and windows, the thick vines obscuring the drab stone walls.

  “He’s responsible for all this,” the man said, waving a hand at the surroundings. “This street used to be alive with merchants, farmers driving wagons full of produce, moneylenders, soldiers and more. Families used to live in each of these houses. But when Cyril made it so that we couldn’t trade no more with the king, the city just dried up. How can you live in a place when your market is taken away? Berismo used to be the center of trade between the two domains. When trade stopped, just about everyone left to where they could make a living. What stayed behind was those who had no prospects, or else everything they owned was here.”

  They passed by one house and an older woman emerged. Her grey hair was long, curled in a bun on the back of her head. Her clothing, once fashionable, was tattered and worn. She had been pretty in her prime, but age had claimed her fate and she stared at them.

  “You are Karl the Viking,” she spoke, her voice rusty from disuse.

  Karl abruptly stopped, causing the others to stumble to a halt. “How do you know who I am?” he asked, facing the woman.

  “It takes no wisdom to see you are a Viking,” she chuckled. “The only Viking I know of is the one called ‘Karl.’ You have arrived just in time. Come inside.”

  “We are on our way to see Reyal,” the guard explained.

  “He can wait,” she dismissively replied. “This is more important. Come. Come.” She curled her fingers at him as she turned and pushed the door open to her home.

  It was dark when they entered and she bustled over to light several candles, placing them at intervals along the wall. The illumination was surprising and the room noticeably brightened. The room itself was sparse, yet meticulously clean. A carpet covered most of the wooden floor. A cooking hearth filled one corner while a single table and chair occupied the middle of the large room. Along the walls, a lone shelf, lined with books, ran the circumference. To the right of the hearth, another door led to what Karl supposed was the bedroom.

  She peered intently at him. “You want to know why I asked you inside.” She grinned a wide smile, her teeth brilliantly white. “You want to cross a bridge and I can help you.”

  Karl’s interest immediate perked. “You know about the bridge?”

  “Of course, dearie,” she nodded. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “You can help us?”

  “Naturally,” she said, tilting her head. “But you must do something for me in return.”

  “OK?” Karl raised an eyebrow.

  “What Faylen here has not told you is that there is more to why this city has fallen.”

  “Not that again, Cirissa,” he sighed. He turned to Karl, shaking his head. “She believes there’s a curse on this city and once the curse is lifted, we’ll be the center of trade again.” He turned back to her. “There’s a rational and logical explanation for our fate, not some sort of mumbo jumbo witchcraft.”

  “You’ll see,” she answered him, unaffected by his rudeness. Her attention back on Karl, she asked, “Will you listen to him or me? He won’t help you get to the island.”

  “There is no island,” Faylen huffed.

  Cirissa winked at Karl. “See what I mean?”

  Karl turned to Faylen. “Let’s hear what she has to say.”

  “I thought you wanted to see the burgomaster?’ he complained.

  “Like she said, he can wait.”

  “Meaning no disrespect,” Faylen said with a shake of his head, “I better get back to my post. She can tell you how to get to the burgomaster.” Without waiting for a response, he spun around and headed out the door.

  “Pay him no mind,” Cirissa said with a flip of her hand then narrowed her gaze at Karl. “Do you wish to get to the bridge?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can help,” she nodded with a grin. “But you must help me first.”

  “You said that already,” Annabeth chimed in.

  “Just making sure, dearie.” She turned to retrieve a book, flipping it open and placed it on the table. The words on the pages were hand written. “I wrote it all down. It begins over 500 years ago.”

  “Is this really necessary?” Raquel asked. “Can’t we skip the history lesson and just get to the facts?”

  “Oh,” Cirissa admonished with a patronizing stare. “Confident are we? Wants to kill it right away. Impetuous and beautiful.”

  Raquel rolled her eyes. “This is taking too long.”

  Cirissa smiled at her then glanced beyond her shoulder. “Welcome lady assassin.”

  The others spun around to see Sakura in their midst.

  “God, I hate when you do that,” Annabeth exclaimed.

  “The gate guard is dead,” Sakura warned. “I couldn’t stop him before it was too late.”

  “He’s here?” Karl said, his lips tight.

  “Who is here??” Cirissa demanded.

  “Another assassin,” Karl replied, “out for revenge.”

  “Damn it all,” Greg uttered. “He’s got me in his sights.”

  “And everyone else,” Karl reminded him then looked at the rest of the team. “Time to take out an assassin.” Turning to Cirissa, he shook his head. “We’re gonna have to beg off on your history lesson… at least until we take care of a certain problem.”

  “I understand,” she answered with a slight smile. “Perhaps I can help.”

  “I’m listening.”

  She turned to Sakura. “Which way was his direction?”

  “Heading towards the center of the city before I lost him,” Sakura replied. “He�
�s good.”

  “He expects you to go to the burgomaster to warn him. Then you must do what he does not expect.”

  “And what would that be?” Karl asked, beginning to get frustrated both with this silly woman and that they were reacting to Kevin.

  “Find him first. Come.” She led the way through the other door which was indeed the bedroom. The room was small with a single bed and a dresser. In the wall opposite the bed, a low fire burned in the hearth. Runes covered the front of the mantel.

  Cirissa went over to the mantel and fingered several runes in succession causing the fire pit to silently rotate 90°.

  “Follow me.”

  Filing into the gap they entered a large opulent windowless room crammed with tapestries, silver and gold candelabras, dressers, bureaus, music instruments, chinaware, serving sets, silverware chests, and a wide canopy bed covered in embroidered quilts.

  Seeing their surprised looks, she smirked, “The other rooms are to keep unwanted visitors away. When they think you don’t have anything, they leave you alone. I got all this when they began to leave the city,” she proudly explained. “Too much to take with them so they left it. Finders keepers, I always say.”

  She turned to Raquel. “Well lady ranger, how good are you with the little ones?”

  “Little ones, like in children?”

  “No,” she answered, crossing the room and opening the door to a large wire cage and tenderly lifting out a large rat, nuzzling it as she returned. “These little ones.”

  “How is a rat going to help us?” Annabeth asked, curling a lip.

  Ignoring her, Cirissa held it up to Raquel. “Tell her what you want her to do.”

  Raquel frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t understand what you’re telling me.”

  “If there is one rat, there are plenty more,” Cirissa wisely answered. “In truth, there are far more of them than there are of us these days. You want to find your foe, send them to find him.”

  Raquel’s eyes brightened. Invoking a Talk to Animal spell, she gave her instructions. When the rat squeaked in response, Cirissa placed it on the floor and they watched as the rat scurried to a hole in the stone wall and disappeared.

  “Give her about an hour,” Cirissa said, “then you will know where he is.”