Blood Of The Righteous

by J. E. Sandoval

  Having had a few drinks, the pain in his chest and abdomen had finally subsided. Between the smoke, coughing fits, and throwing up several times at the castle, his chest hurt any time he took a deep breath. He looked about and caught the eye of the innkeeper's wife, raising his empty glass signifying that he wanted a refill. “Please make sure it’s cold if possible,” he said. The kindly old lady smiled and nodded, mouthing something unintelligible. David returned his gaze to the fire. He was glad the room was fairly full. Being in a crowd was the only thing that caused his constant fear to subside, even if only slightly. He dreaded going back up to his room. Last night, he had slept soundly without a dream, but he was sure that was brought on by pure exhaustion. He had awoken and made his way to the common room, and had only left his table to relieve himself.

  A grimy-looking man, thin with shifty eyes, glanced David's way from two tables down. His eyes shifted to the pack that sat at David's feet, then back. When his gaze was met, he turned away, pretending to be interested in what his tablemate was saying. David slid the pack closer to him with his foot, wincing as it fell over, the coins inside giving away a telltale jingle.

  The Hammer and Anvil Tavern was one of the nicer inns in Lystra. It was situated a few streets away from the large river docks, and was frequented by merchants and riverboat officers. The common room was filled with circular tables, surrounded by three or four sturdy wooden chairs each. A small stage was in one corner of the room, where the bard danced about, alternating between playing his flute and singing about a woman of some sort. The walls were lined with sooty, dim lanterns and poorly rendered paintings of people David didn't recognize. The large open hearth, almost in the center of the room, provided most of the light as a fire blazed from the treated and stacked logs. Serving girls darted between tables, taking orders and delivering food and drink.

  "Here you go, lad. You had better not drink too much more of that, or you'll make yourself sick as a stray dog!" The stout woman set the cup of creamed whiskey on his table. "That'll be a copper." David reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out two. He handed them to the woman with a forced and pained smile. The innkeeper's wife smiled back, but genuinely. David had been tipping her well since his first order, and thus she had ordered the other serving girls to stay clear of his table.

  "Lad, are you sure you won't eat something? I can bring you a nice hot bowl of venison stew…"

  "No thank you, ma'am," David interrupted.

  "You are going to rot your gut if you just keep drinking without putting something solid in you," she insisted. A few of the other patrons looked their way.

  Anxious to avoid attention, David nodded. "I shall have a few crusts of bread, then."

  "Hmpf" was the only reply he received. The woman waddled off, muttering under her breath about David making himself sick.

  A dull ache sank in David's stomach. She was beginning to remind him of his kindly old Nana, another person ripped from his life for reasons he couldn't bear to think about. The emptiness once again began to consume him, and he quickly tried to focus on something else to keep the feelings out. Straining, he began to pick out distinct voices from the subdued murmurs of the crowd. His attention once again turned to the table occupied by the carpenter and the two stable hands.

  "…had to close up shop. He said the looters took everything before the town watch got there," the rail thin stable hand said.

  "Well, that's nothin'. Half the bloody watch walked off their rounds today. With the mayor and magistrates dead, plus the entire town counsel, there be no one to pay them. I give it two days before the rest of them walk off their jobs. Then God in heaven help us." The carpenter bit his lip as he considered the words he had just spoken.

  "Aye, God help us indeed," replied the thin stable hand.

  The larger stable hand, quiet up until now, nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. Lystra will quickly turn into a thieves’ den. How many Holy Defenders are there in the town right now? Four? And not a red-cloak in sight! Plus, the Royal Bank has closed up shop until things settles down.” He took a drink from the tall stein in his hand. "Lord Ki Kalendeen can burn in hell for the mess he's left us in."

  David turned his attention elsewhere. He hadn't thought his heart could drop any lower, until he had heard that last comment. His fought back his instinct to lash out at the three men, to demand to know where they had been when everyone was slaughtered, why they hadn't taken up arms and rushed to the castle when they saw the smoke. No, an outburst like that would only get him hurt further and worse yet, noticed. Who knows who might be on the lookout for him?

  Being in a crowd seemed less and less attractive to David as his mind brought images of Aragil spies looking to slay any Ki Kalendeens that may have survived. Shuddering, he grabbed his cup and sucked down the contents in four gulps. The sweet, thick, white liquid rolled down his throat, taking away a bit more of the burning. His eyes began to get heavy as the alcohol made its way through his body.

  He jumped as the metal plate containing his bread was dropped on the table with a clatter. "Thank you, M'lady," David said as he handed two coppers to the scrutinizing woman. Taking them, she walked away shaking her head, muttering again.

  David took a few quick bites of the bread, but because of the smoke and the creamed whiskey, it was difficult to taste. He set it back on its plate, and reached under his chair to grab his pack. As he bent over, he felt the room begin to spin a bit. Hoisting the pack over his shoulder, he stood up while trying not to stagger and headed up the narrow stairs to his small room.

  * * * * * *

  Morning in Lystra found the streets practically deserted. Stores and shops refused to open their doors, and street vendor carts lay empty and overturned. David shivered as he walked towards the docks through the heavy, early spring rain, dirt streets quickly turning to mud beneath his feet. The only buildings that had their doors open were a few of the larger inns and pubs, ones that had hired on their own guards. The looting had gotten steadily worse, and several shops had been burned to the ground during the night. If it hadn't been for the fortuitous sudden downpour of rain, the entire city may have gone up in flames.

  Lystra was a fairly young city, and had grown due to its proximity to the Blackrock Mountains. Mining and smithing were the city's lifeblood. Being situated upon the Vissik river, it had easy access to Kheog, New Portsmouth, and more importantly, the sea. Riverboats, filled with iron and steel ingots, leaving the great Lystra docks were not an uncommon sight. Over the past several generations, however, weapons and armor were more commonly shipped out to sea with their destination being Port Cirill. The war had caused another boom in the city's growth, but Lord Ki Kalendeen, as his father before him, had managed to keep the growing pains at a minimum. Today, however, the large smelting furnaces were unused, the smith forges growing cold, and the usual ringing of hammers against iron gave way to a terrible silence.

  David hurried along the muddied streets, coins in his pack jingling as he walked. "Lad!"

  David jumped at the sudden noise and turned around. A man wearing gleaming silver chain mail armor stood before him. His sword was in its scabbard, but his gleaming shield bearing five overlaid crosses was held in his left hand. A cloak of royal blue hung from his shoulders, the end muddied from walking through the streets. A Holy Defender. David wiped the rain water from his eyes and forehead. "Yes sir?"

  "What is a boy of your age doing wandering the streets at a time like this?" The Defender's voice rang with confidence and authority. "You had best get home to your family. Haven't you heard what's happening?"

  "I know, sir. Lord Ki Kalendeen is dead, along with the rest of the city leadership." David's voice turned cold as he spoke the words.

  The Defender nodded. "Aye, 'tis a tragedy. Lord Ki Kalendeen was a Godly man. But that is not of what I was speaking. The Aragil army has reached th
e border villages and claimed them in the name of King Dorian. They met with no resistance and are securing the villages. Kheog is their next destination, I fear, then Lystra. They shall be here in a few days time. If I were you, I'd get home now. These blasted looters are everywhere."

  David bit his lip at the news. His father had been right. "Sir, I am on my way to the docks. I have passage aboard a river boat and it sails in under an hour." David dropped his head towards the muddy street. "My family was killed in a fire last night," he lied.

  The Defender put his armored hand on David's shoulder. "I'm sorry, lad. I shall remember you and your family in my prayers."

  David forced a smile at the man. "Thank you, sir. Now if you will excuse me…"

  "Lad, do you have a destination?"

  "Yes, sir. I have family in…" David's mind raced. He didn't want to give away his destination, just in case the knight had recognized him and had a loose tongue. "In…Northpoint, sir."

  "Northpoint, eh?" The Defender looked over David and smiled. "I thought you looked like a merchant's son. Was your papa a shop keeper?"

  David nodded. He felt bad about lying again to a man in service to God, but he could take no chances.

  "Well, lad, I'll see you to your ship. Come on." The Defender began walking towards the docks. David hurried after him. They walked the distance in an uncomfortable silence, the only sounds being their sloshing footfalls against the streets and the occasional jingling of David's pack.

  A sound of a crowd began to grow, and within minutes, it was dominating the city. Rounding the corner, David's heart fell as he saw the large crowds of people pressing towards the one ship docked at the wharf… His ship. At least seventy-five people were crowding the docks.

  The small crew of the riverboat attempted to block the gangplank as townspeople tried to push their way on board. The captain was screaming at the top of his lungs from within the crowd, ten people shouting at him at once.

  Tightening the grip on his pack, David made his way towards the crowd. At least he had the foresight to buy his passage in advance, he thought, as he pulled the small piece of parchment from his inside tunic pocket. A few people had started throwing things towards the ship. Rocks and other debris were barely deflected by the tired-looking crew's shields. One woman tried to shove her way past the blockade. David lost sight of her as he entered the crowd, but the high-pitched scream and splash of water told him she was unsuccessful. He looked back towards the Holy Defender, but only caught a glimpse of him as the man darted towards the gangplank to pull the woman from the river.

  Pushing through the crowd, David finally managed to get near the captain. A tall bald man held the captain's attention as the two screamed at each other.

  "We're not honoring your passage and that's final! The price is now seventeen….I mean twenty five gold!" Another wave of anger rose from the crowd at the captain's last statement.

  "Oh yeah?" screamed the tall bald man. He poked the captain in the chest with his index finger, causing the captain to stagger backwards a step. "Either you honor our passages, or we'll chop up you and your crew and take your ship for ourselves!" The crowd shouted in agreement and began to move towards the ship.

  The crew drew their swords. The two lead crewmen of the blockade began to swing their weapons in defensive arcs, daring the rioters to step onto the gangplank. People again began to pick up rocks and throw them at the ship and crewmen.

  David tried to get the captain's attention by waving his passage at him. Another man, average height, but somewhat large thrust a small pouch at the captain.

  "I'll give you thirty gold if you let me on that ship right now and set sail!"

  "Done!" said the captain. He put the pouch in his pocket as he glanced at David. Quickly, he ripped David's passage from him and handed it to the man.

  "Hey!" David screamed. The captain went to push him away and David kicked at his shins. The captain shoved him away as if he were an annoying dog. David fell hard face-first into a puddle of muddy water. People began to push forward towards the captain. The angry words of the crowd drowned out David's scream as someone stepped on his hand.

  "QUIET!!! QUIET!!!" A loud voice boomed above the rest of the crowd. All commotion and conversation stopped as everyone turned to face the Holy Defender. He glared at the crowd, looking from face to face, eyes radiating strength and determination. "I cannot believe what I am seeing here! I thought Lystra was full of good Christian men and women, not dogs fighting over a scrap of meat! And to what end is this riot? If all of you were to crowd onto the ship, it would sink!"

  "But the Aragil army is on their way!" screamed one of the women. The crowd shouted their agreements.

  "They are more than a week away at least!" The Defender seemed unruffled by the crowd's sudden anger towards him. "Plenty of time to WALK to New Portsmouth, if that's where you're going. But what about when you reach it? This boat won't be able to go out to sea. What are you going to do? Riot again and steal another ship?"

  "If need be!" shouted the tall, bald man.

  "Well, I guarantee you the people of New Portsmouth would have beaten you to it. Although I don't know how much success they would have, considering Lord Eddington's town guards are still on duty! And his men are not as lenient on unruly citizens as Lord Ki Kalendeen's!"

  A hushed murmur fell over the crowd as they considered the Defender's words. Slowly, they started dispersing, some heading off to secure a coach or horse, others milling about, eyeing the captain with subdued rage.

  The Defender walked over to the man with David's passage and ripped it out of his hand. "That does not belong to you, sir! I suggest you get your gold back from the captain." The merchant opened his mouth to protest, but the Defender quickly held up his index finger and glared into his eyes. The merchant closed his mouth without making a sound.

  "Thank you, sir," said David, wiping mud from his face and neck with the back of his sleeve.

  The Defender gave an expressionless nod as his eyes shifted from the captain to David and back. A group of three well-dressed merchants began to talk at the same time to the Holy Defender, who made the futile gesture of raising his hand to silence them.

  David slung his heavy pack over his shoulder and darted to the gangplank, getting in line behind the other two passengers, an older couple. One tall, red haired crewman remained on the plank. In the commotion, David had not noticed the others board the ship. The red haired crewman looked at the passenger's parchments, handed them back to him.

  "Low passage gets choice of hold or deck."

  "Hold, sir," the passenger.

  "Two for the hold!" the crewman yelled. A boy younger than David rushed from the deck to the gangplank and escorted the man and his wife onto the ship.

  "Next," the crewman said.

  David showed him his passage parchment.

  "High passage, eh? Share a cabin with two others or you want the small room under the stairs?"

  "Would I have to share it?"

  The crewman shook his head, chuckling. "There be hardly enough room for someone as small as you, boy!"

  "That will be fine. I prefer to be alone."

  "Kip! Hurry up!"

  The young boy returned, wiping his long, unkempt, rain-drenched hair from his face.

  "Kip, take this gentleman to the shaft." The sailor shot David a half-toothed grin. "We'll have you in New Portsmouth soon enough, boy."

  The boy nodded and gestured for David to board the ship. The gangplank was slick from the rain, which had slowed to a drizzle. Left hand on the railing, right hand on the shoulder strap of his pack, David made his way carefully up the plank.

  The deck was alive with activity. Men darted back and forth, making preparations for leaving the docks. The Vissik river was at least fifty legs wide at this point, downriver from the point where the north and south forks joined, downriver from castle Ki Kalendeen. The drizzling mor
ning rain made the river ripple, the silver-gray sky reflecting on its surface.

  David's thoughts were brought back to the present as the young boy reached up to take the pack from him. David jerked away, thrusting his left hand into the smaller boy's chest. Kip staggered backwards and steadied himself by grabbing hold of the railing. David glared at him in silent warning. Kip bit his lip and frowned. Keeping his distance from David, he led him down the stairs to a small door, barely higher than one leg in height. Kip opened the door, forced a smile, and hurried back up the stairs without a word.

  The shaft, as they called it, was completely dark, had only a pallet on the floor and a shelf for possessions, and smelled of a combination of body odor and old ale. David ducked through the small doorway. Leaving the door open so as to have some light, he quickly poked around the pallet, checking for rats.

  "Glad I didn't get the low passage," he muttered as he removed the heavy pack from his shoulder. Dropping it on the pallet, it landed with a jingling thud. He pulled the door shut behind him, causing the room to become pitch black. Taking his damp cloak off, he tossed it to the foot of the pallet, laid down, and tried to fall asleep.

  The taste of smoke rose to his mouth as he coughed, long, deep, and ragged. He pulled the pack to his chest, opening it and feeling his way through the contents. Most of the clothes inside were too big for him. He was torn, however, between selling them in New Portsmouth and holding on to them. They were all he had left of Alexander. A lump rose in his throat as he thought about his brother for the first time since leaving the castle. Alexander… His last words in this world had been concern for David's safety. A flood of emotional memories washed over him. He had been much closer to Alexander than he ever could be with Gabriel. He remembered all of the good times they had, running through the castle, swimming in the Vissik, playing pranks on family and staff, and endless hours spent wrestling, half filled with anger, half on the brink of passing out from laughter. But never again.