“Hmm. It’s that time of the night. Well, as this’ll be our last night together for a while, let’s go and have a drink. Maybe I can drown my sorrows!” Isabelle suggested.
“Sure. Let’s go see what’s happening at the inn. Looks like it’s quite lively already. Maybe a trader from a faraway village will whisk you off your feet.”
“You say that almost every time we step into this place. It hasn’t happened yet.”
“Yeah, but you do remain hopeful.”
“What is it with the local men anyway? All I want is a nice young Warrior to take care of me. Someone I can keep all to myself. Is that too much to ask? I mean, that’s not selfish, is it?”
“Actually, I think that’s the definition of selfish. Here, let’s grab this one,” Sarah suggested, tugging her sister towards a table in the far corner by the fireplace.
As soon as they sat, the inn-keeper’s wife came over with a small notepad and pencil. She was a short, plump woman with a white apron wrapped around her waist. She wore a velvet green tunic and long, black boots. Her wiry, white hair was tied in a bun on the top of her head with a length of vine.
“Hello girls. What’ll it be tonight?” she said, with a beaming smile. Before either of them had a chance to reply, the woman looked at Sarah and tilted her head.
“Oh, hello there, Sarah. Not often we see you in here with your sister.” She nodded at Isabelle to acknowledge her also.
Sarah smiled politely and gave a little wave.
“Yes, well don’t get used to her. Unfortunately, you’re probably not going to be seeing her in here for a very long time again either,” Isabelle said to the woman. Turning again to face Sarah, and speaking in a deliberate tone, she said, “My dearest sister, here, is leaving to go and find herself in the forests.”
“Well, it’s ‘bout time too, don’t you think?” the woman said, catching Sarah’s eye. “Devilishly smart young Fixer like yourself. After all, you’ve reached the age of decision now, haven’t you my dear?”
“Exactly!” Sarah said, in an equally definitive tone and grinning at Isabelle.
“When are you off, my dear?”
“Um, tomorrow, actually.”
“Oh, well, then, let me go and get you something special I keep for occasions just like this.”
With that, the woman spun on her heels and hurried back towards the bar. Sarah and Isabelle both giggled. They were soon interrupted by the voice of a man.
“Heading off into Forestium, are we?”
It was a trader from another village sitting by himself at the next table. He was wearing a green and yellow tunic and a thick, full-length cloak. His face wasn’t quite visible through the hood that covered his head. Sarah and Isabelle looked at each other with narrowed eyes. The man stood up and pulled his hood back. It revealed a hideous scar that ran down one side of his face from his temple to his chin. He walked over to their table.
“Don’t mind if I join you for a mo’, do you?”
“Umm, well…”
Before Isabelle got any more words out, the man pulled up a stool and sat down.
“Sure. Join us…why don’t you.”
Sarah and Isabelle raised eyebrows at each other.
“You’re a Fixer?” The man said, with a piercing stare at Sarah.
“Um, yes, that’s right. And…you are?”
“Heading out to find yourself, I gather, hey? Hoping to learn new skills and bring them back to the village, am I right?”
“That’s the general idea, yes. Sorry, I don’t think I caught your name?”
The man narrowed his eyes. He turned to look left and right. Sarah and Isabelle both did likewise, following his gaze. The man leaned in. The girls both leaned in as well.
“Stay away from the east!”
“Excuse me?” Sarah said.
“You heard me,” he said, in a whisper, “Stay away from the east.”
“Why?”
The man looked around again. Once more, the girls did the same.
“Terrible things happening there. Not safe for a…youngster like yourself. You mind my words. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay this side of the river.”
“Um, look…friend,” Isabelle said, sitting upright and speaking in a definite tone. “I don’t know how much you’ve had to drink, but…”
“Don’t patronise me, young lady!” he said, sharply. “And don’t take me for a fool either. I’ve seen things…terrible things. I just…wouldn’t want anyone getting into harm’s way, that’s all.”
He turned again to Sarah and continued, “Just…looking out for the young lady’s best interests.”
“OK, well…thanks. I mean, really, thanks,” Sarah said, nodding at the trader. “But I think I can handle myself well enough.”
“What things?” Isabelle asked.
“What?” the trader said, turning to Isabelle.
“You said terrible things. What terrible things?”
“Nasty…creatures.”
“What, you mean like Wood-boars?”
Isabelle turned to Sarah. “Now you did promise me you wouldn’t go hunting Wood-boars, right?”
“I’m not talking about no Wood-boar,” the man said curtly, cutting Sarah off before she could respond. “There are worse things out to the east than Wood-boars, I can promise you that.”
“Worse than a Wood-boar?” Isabelle said, dismissively and rolling her eyes. “Honestly, what could possibly be worse than a Wood-boar?”
The man slowly leaned forwards again. Now captivated and eager to hear more, both girls also leaned forward.
“Nasty, ‘orrible, vicious creatures,” he said. “Rip a Wood-boar to shreds in seconds, so it would. Wouldn’t think twice about ripping you to shreds either, if it got close enough. You’d be lucky to survive!” The man turned his head slightly and ran his finger along the length of his scar.
“Oh, now come on!” Isabelle said, rolling her eyes.
“Doesn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard of,” Sarah said, her natural curiosity kicking in. “What sort of creature are you talking about?”
The man leaned in some more. He whispered, “Blood-bats.”
“Blood-bats?” Isabelle said in a loud voice and sitting bolt upright. One or two people turned briefly to look at them, but soon went back to their conversations.
Isabelle turned to Sarah and said, “What’s a Blood-bat?”
Sarah shrugged. “No idea. Never heard of them.”
Just at that moment, the inn-keeper’s wife came back to their table.
“Hello, Greville,” she said with a sigh. “Not still banging on about those fantastic creatures again, are you?”
The trader stood up and glared down at the woman. She turned to him, folded her arms and raised her eyebrows at him.
“Be on your way, now, and stop frightening these girls here with your nonsense tales.”
The trader’s stare lingered for a moment before he turned to Sarah again. He leaned towards her ear and whispered, “Just don’t cross that river…if you know what’s good for you. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
With that, he stood up straight, cast a reproving eye at the inn-keeper’s wife again and walked away.
“What was that all about?” Isabelle asked.
“Oh don’t mind him,” the woman said, with a dismissive gesture. “He’s harmless enough. In here every other night trying to convince people he’s seen mythical beasts. Tells everyone it’s where he got his scar. The truth is he got that scar falling off a cart in Temerelle down south. Me ‘usband knows the inn-keeper there, Nedwell. He reckons this one is half a dozen berries short of a Bramock bush.”
Sarah and Isabelle both looked at each other and giggled.
“Here you go, my dear,” the woman said, putting a glass jar onto the table. Sarah tilted her head to see what was inside it. It looked like a mesh of fine strands of black string.
“What’s this?” Sarah asked.
“Just a
little treat we like to give people that are about to go on a long journey—just like the one you’ll be going on tomorrow.”
“Oh, yes, I’ve heard about this. Um, what is it?”
“Try some. You’ll see. You’ll love it.”
Sarah picked up the jar. Scribbled across it were the words ‘Liquorice Moss’.
Sarah looked up at the old woman. She looked down at Sarah and nodded with her eyebrows raised.
“Go on, me dear, that’s right.”
Sarah unscrewed the lid and reached in. She pulled out a small bunch of the fibrous strands. Sniffing them first, she then put them into her mouth and started chewing.
Isabelle looked at her expectantly.
“Well?”
“Hmmm. What a…distinctive, um, taste,” Sarah said, looking up at the woman and smiling as politely as she could. The woman beamed at her and went back to the bar.
“Come on,” Sarah said, holding her hand to her mouth and getting to her feet.
“Are we leaving? Why”
“Well, unless you want me to spit this out right here?”
Both girls burst into laughter and quickly walked out of the inn.
The next morning, Sarah awoke to the usual sound of the dawn forest chorus. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, as thoughts of her journey ahead raced through her mind. She pondered the various ways she could think of surviving, using nothing more than what she would find along the way. The thought of that challenge excited her. First light was just starting to pour into Jemarrah. The slow-burning logs on the fire were all but spent, leaving a plume of smoke rising from the remaining pile of smouldering ashes. The soothing hum from the swarms of night-time Dengle-bugs was beginning to die down.
“Isabelle?” she called out, yawning and stretching her arms out.
There was no answer. Her sister had always been an early riser. Sarah quickly got up and readied herself for what was sure to be a most difficult morning of farewells. By the time she had something to eat and made her way into town, a group of well-wishers had already started gathering at the school, where the going away ceremony would take place. Sarah had attended these ritual good-byes herself when other Fixers before her had left for their travels. Today it would be her turn to be the centre of that attention.
It had been a chilly night. A light ground-frost was still melting in places. A hazy mist floated in the air. The familiar night-time hum of Dengle-bugs had by now subsided altogether and the new day was taking hold across the land. Chirvels chirped and jumped from branch to branch, as they scurried to find scraps of food left by Jemarrah’s inhabitants. Their bushy tails made them extremely agile in the trees.
Sarah looked up to see shards of light piercing through the treetop canopy. She heard a flock of Raetheons soaring high above and out of sight. Sarah pondered just how far those majestic, white birds could fly and whether she would encounter them in other far flung corners of Forestium.
She took in a deep lungful of fresh air and exhaled slowly. Sarah had been looking forward to this for a long time. Now that the day had come, she felt a surge of exhilaration but it was tinged with the sadness of the farewell she would now have to endure.
“So. Finally got out of bed, then?”
Sarah turned to find Isabelle walking towards her. She was carrying a basket full of freshly harvested Shrooms.
“Hmmm,” Sarah said, learning towards the basket and sniffing. “They look good. What are they? Wendilous?”
“You’re the expert. You tell me.”
Sarah picked up a couple of the Shrooms and examined them further. “Actually, it looks like you have some Brevanian in there as well. It’s a bit early in the season for those. They smell delicious, though. Where did you find them?”
“Wasn’t easy. I had to walk about two hours out of the village.”
“Two hours? Why go to so much bother? There are plenty of Shrooms growing around here.”
Isabelle shifted the basket to her hip. She looked at Sarah, raised her brow and said, “It isn’t every day I have to say goodbye to my only sister. I wanted only the best for your farewell ceremony. Come on. If you’re going to make me go through this, you can at least help me with the preparations.”
They walked into the school, where a group of Tenders was already busy decorating the hall and laying food out onto a table at the front. It was the job of the village Tenders, like Isabelle, to look after and care for people. That included arranging things like farewell ceremonies, which typically take place once a month or so.
Over the course of the morning, lots more people arrived at the school, which had become quite packed. Ordinarily, only family and close friends would attend these functions, but it seemed like half the town had turned out to bid the Elder’s daughter farewell and to wish her well on her travels.
Sarah never sought this kind of attention or notoriety. She often found it uncomfortable being the centre of attention. Over the years she learned to deal with the fact that her father was the town’s most important person.
Various cries of things like “Good luck, Sarah,” and “be careful now,” rang out across the hall throughout the morning. Sarah did her best to respond politely each time, even if she didn’t always see the person in question. All the voices merged together after a while but one stood out for some reason.
“Remember what I said, young lady. Stay away from the east.”
Sarah turned to see who it was but was immediately distracted by the inn-keeper’s wife, who had managed to push her way through the crowd to get close to Sarah.
“Here you go, Sarah my dear,” she said, pushing a palmful of liquorice moss into Sarah’s hand.
“Oh, that’s very kind of you, but…”
“Now just remember to eat it just a little at a time, okay?”
“Um, yes, well, thank you very much. I’m sure it will…come in very handy.”
Sarah stuffed the black strands of liquorice moss into her pocket. The inn-keeper’s wife smiled and nodded before pushing her way back into the crowd again.
Isabelle whispered into Sarah’s ear, “Remember not to eat it all at once.” They both chuckled.
Just at that moment, a horn sounded. Everyone turned to look at the front door. There in the doorframe, silhouetted against the backdrop of the morning sun was the unmistakable outline of Sarah’s father. The room fell silent. He walked in. Everyone moved out of his way and an opening formed all the way to the main table, where Sarah and Isabelle were stood. Trailing behind him were a dozen or so warriors. They made their way to the front table and stood in a row before it, facing the crowd. The Elder stood between his two daughters and addressed the onlookers.
“Today is a day of great honour. My youngest daughter will be leaving us for a while. But she will be back and with her she’ll bring new skills and knowledge…”
As the Elder spoke, Sarah looked around the hall. Everyone smiled and listened intently to his words. At least, almost everyone. At the very back of the hall, a dark figure was moving slowly towards the door. Sarah squinted and moved her head left and right to try to get a better look. It was a man. He was wearing a dark, full-length cloak with a hood over his head. He walked out the door. With the sunlight streaming through, Sarah couldn’t quite make out who it was. The man stepped out into the sun, stopped, removed his hood and turned to look over his shoulder. He stared at Sarah. Now visible in the morning sunlight, Sarah recognised him as the man that spoke to her at the inn last night. The scar down his face was unmistakable.
Just then, Sarah felt something.
“…And we wish her a safe journey,” her father said, patting her on the shoulder.
The crowd erupted into cheers and applause.
Sarah smiled and started to thank the crowd. She glanced back at the door but the man had gone.
Sarah turned back to the crowd. Everyone had fallen silent. Her father nudged her.
“Oh, right. Um, yes, well thank you all for coming,” she said, snatching
herself back to the moment. “Um…really, it’s…very much appreciated. And I hope to bring back lots of new skills…for the good of the village. Thank you.”
Once again, the crowd erupted into applause. Everyone wanted to get close to Sarah to congratulate her and to wish her well. The warriors did their best to contain everyone’s enthusiasm and to prevent them from rushing forward.
After a few more congratulatory handshakes, Sarah’s father made his way to the door. The warriors followed him and formed two lines to create a pathway so that Sarah could exit the building unobstructed.
Sarah turned to Isabelle and threw her arms around her. They hugged tightly for several moments, both with tears in their eyes.
The horn sounded again. Sarah and Isabelle let go of each other and Sarah made her way to the door. With one last hug from her father, she set off to discover new skills.
The end…or just the beginning.
If you want to find out what happens with Sarah on her journey of discovery, check out Joshua and the Magical Forest, which is book one in the Portallas series of novels:
Available on Amazon
Hearts Return
By Melle Amade
Hearts Return © 2017 Melle Amade
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations em- bodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information contact; address http://.melleamade.com
Edited by Kai Hennings
First Edition: May 2017
“Hey.” The room is dark and reeks of menthol, dust and sick. My boots spread dirt on the worn floorboards as I stride to the thick, faded blue curtains and yank them open. The warm afternoon Tuscan sun pours through the gray space. The window sticks, but I grip the weathered frame and slam it upwards. This room needs some warm summer air. I breathe in deeply, even though I’m not winded from the jog up the long six flights of stairs to the top of the building.
Dawn Of Hope: Charity Anthology Page 13
