Lorie shook her head as she tussled the hair of her middle child, “They are ready.”
“Good,” Randall nodded, turning to Ellie and Yordan, “and you two?”
“Sooner begun, sooner done,” Yordan quipped, to which Ellie nodded her approval. Ellie had been uncharacteristically withdrawn during the boat ride, during which time Randall’s mind had been filled with dark thoughts regarding the cause of her change in mood. She had always been the happy one of their trio, and even though she was not the most outgoing person she had been the backbone of their mutual friendship since they had all been street rats.
“Ok,” Randall nodded before pointing toward the far end of town, “I think I saw a livery over there.”
“It’s still hard to believe you’ve already been here,” Lorie said. “I can’t get the image of…well, of who you were back in Three Rivers.”
During the riverboat trip he had told them much—but not all—about his former sojourn from Three Rivers. Even Lorie had seemed impressed with some of the details—especially those concerning how he had earned the scar on his leg, which had come courtesy of a poisoned Fleshmonger arrow.
“I wouldn’t have made it as long as I have if not for the help of true friends, Lorie,” Randall said, meeting Ellie and Yordan’s eyes briefly before setting off for the far end of the narrow fishing village. After he was out of earshot he said, “I think we should tell them about you, Dani.”
I do not think that is wise, at least not yet, she reiterated her previously stated concerns on the matter. Once we return to your ‘barony’ the danger we would be putting them in by revealing my true nature would be significantly reduced, but even then it would make them targets for those who would use them against you—against us.
“You’ve saved their lives,” Randall objected. “I can’t keep taking credit for all of the things we’ve done since our joining began. It’s not honest, and it’s disrespectful of you.”
I do not covet respect, Randall, she scoffed. I wish only to protect you, and since these people are your friends I wish to help you protect them. To best do that, it is my opinion that we should not expose them to anything which might endanger them—including my true nature.
“It’s just…” he sighed, “I don’t like taking credit for the things you’ve done. I wouldn’t be here without you and I want you to know how much I appreciate your help.”
There was a pregnant pause, I appreciate your saying that, Randall. But for now I think it is best if they think of me as nothing more than an enchanted weapon—one which you have come to rely on more than anyone could have expected. Deeper truths can wait until we are in a safer position.
“That works,” he grinned as he came to the livery, where he quickly sighted a wagon being worked on by what looked to be the livery’s owner. “Excuse me,” Randall greeted, drawing a flat look from the man crouched beneath the wagon’s axle, “is this wagon for rent?”
Dusk, 11-2-6-659
Three days later, and after spending every last penny of his remaining funds on the wagon rental and provisions, Randall and his friends had journeyed north by northeast on the road which led to Greystone.
During his previous sojourn from Three Rivers, he had taken what was almost the least efficient route from Three Rivers to Greystone. This time, however—and after reviewing some rough maps in Murkwater with Lorie—he had been stunned to learn that the trip to Greystone would take no more than fifteen days whereas his previous trip had taken nearly fifty days!
Lorie’s children were surprisingly well-behaved, rarely voicing their complaints at such volume as to disturb the rest of the wagon’s occupants. Ellie remained distant, offering weak smiles whenever Randall attempted to broach the subject of whatever it was that had caused the change in her. Even Yordan had been unusually tight-lipped, and it did not take a mind-reader like Phinjo to narrow the list of possible reasons down to a few likely culprits—each of which caused a mixture of anger, self-loathing, and sympathy to war for his mind’s focus.
But he was not going to be denied any longer. One of his best friends was clearly suffering and he needed to be there for her. After they pulled the wagon off the road for the night and started a fire—over which they would cook the thrice-accursed ‘gummer’ fish which Randall had sworn he would never eat after his previous experience with it—he took Ellie aside.
“What is it, Doll?” she asked behind a veneer of false surprise.
“You know what it is, Ellie,” he said in a low voice, “but the problem is that I don’t. I…it’s just…look,” he stammered, “I don’t know what happened to you two after I left, but we’re still friends aren’t we?”
“Of course we are,” she said dismissively, “why would you ask such a thing?”
“Because when someone I care about is suffering, I can’t just stand by and act like nothing’s going on,” he replied a bit more harshly than he intended. “It’s just…I care about you, Ellie. I wish I could have been there for you—“
“You do not need to apologize,” she interrupted.
“Of course I need to apologize,” he retorted. “Since we were kids, all the three of us ever had was each other. And when I had to leave, it was…I don’t know what you two went through, but I do know that I almost died out here a dozen times over,” he looked out over the vast, rolling plans which made up the river lands as the last rays of the setting sun beamed down from above them. “And I would have died without the help of friends. There are times when each of us has to accept help from others, and there are times when we’re able to give that help back.” He took her hand in his own and said with genuine feeling, “This is one of the times I can help you, Ellie. You’ve always been there for me, and I want to be there for you. But you have to tell me what happened first.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she withdrew one hand from his grip to wipe those tears away. “Doll…I…” she trailed off, sniffling and wiping her nose on the hem of her sleeve, “I do not wish to talk with you about it.”
“You don’t need to be embarrassed, Ellie,” Randall pleaded. “I know that what happened in the alley, with the knife…” he thought back to that haunting image of Ellie’s pale features as she stood with the bloody knife in her hand. She, the kindest and gentlest soul with which Randall had ever been privileged to become acquainted, had slit that soldier’s throat to save Randall’s life. He knew that act had taken something from her that she could never get back, but he feared that she had lost even more since his first flight from Three Rivers.
“I would do that again,” she said with an unexpected ferocity, “and again, and again, and again to protect those I care about.”
“Still…” he said dubiously. “Taking a life isn’t something you just move on from…I know that just as well as you do.”
She nodded, nervously meeting his eyes before it seemed as though a dam had broken and a flood of emotions caused her to embrace him. He folded his arms around her and they stood there, with her quietly sobbing against his chest for several minutes before she withdrew and took his hands in her own. “My father’s people had a saying,” she explained, “they said ‘In the shadow of every sorrow hides three new joys. When sorrow finds you, seek these joys out and do not stop until you have found them.’ I believe this to be true, Doll. I have known sorrows,” she said, shaking her head as if to banish unwanted thoughts, “and, before you returned to us, I could find only one of my new joys. I think I have now found the others, and this makes me happy again.”
“What are your new joys?” he asked, uncertain what she was talking about but wanting her to unburden herself as much as she could.
“After you returned to us,” she explained, “we were whole again. You are like my brother, Doll, and I did not know how much we needed each other until you were gone. Our reunion is the second of my new joys. The third joy,” she continued, “is in our new freedom. We can start new lives—free lives!—and while I know that no life is without hardship
, I know that this new beginning will be good for all of us.”
Randall nodded, having arrived at similar conclusions during his time apart from them. But he felt a strong sense of guilt since his friendship with Dan’Moread had filled many of the voids left by Ellie’s and Yordan’s absence. No one could ever replace his childhood friends, but what they had lacked in companionship since he had left Three Rivers he had largely filled in with his and Dani’s union.
“What is your first joy, then?” he asked, dreading the answer but needing to hear it just the same.
“My first joy,” she began tremulously before the first truly genuine smile he had glimpsed on her face in months beamed up at him, “is that I am to be a mother. Is that not the greatest joy a woman can know?”
Randall felt tears stream down his cheeks, but he forced himself to remain composed as he hugged his lifelong friend once again. “Ellie…I’m so sor—“
“No,” she cut him off before he could finish, pushing away from him and fixing him with an unyielding look that bore no hostility, but which also brooked no dispute, “I choose to be joyous, Randall, and you must do the same or you are not my friend.” Her expression softened as she pressed herself against his chest again, “I do so wish you will be my friend, Doll.”
“I will always be your friend, Ell,” he said softly, barely able to comprehend Ellie’s strength and conviction. She truly was the beating heart of their little trio, and it seemed that not even the most vile and deplorable of crimes committed against her could rob her of the warmth and fortitude which he and Yordan had relied on time and time again while growing up. “And I…I also choose to be joyous,” he said, the words tasting bitter as he spoke them.
“Thank you, Doll,” she said, and from the corner of his eye he saw Yordan peek her head out from behind a nearby tree. She was an inveterate eavesdropper, but from the look on her face it was clear she approved of how Randall had conducted the heartbreaking conversation.
Yordan pointedly stepped on a nearby twig, snapping it loudly enough that Ellie turned just in time for the other girl to say, “Dinner’s on, you two. I’ll be takin’ first watch with you if you don’t mind, Randy.”
“That would be fine,” he nodded as Ellie withdrew and wiped her cheeks clean. Yordan placed a hand on the smaller girl’s shoulder and gave her a brief hug before the trio made their way to the campfire.
“Was it someone I know?” Randall asked after Ellie had gone to sleep, and Yordan had settled in beside him for the watch. Randall had taken to sleeping during the day in the back of the wagon since he knew there was absolutely no way he could sleep at night, when the group would be most vulnerable to the predations of groups like the nefarious Fleshmongers.
“Don’t ask that, Randy,” Yordan said in a low voice. “She wouldn’t want you to know. She doesn’t want to dwell on the bad, and I think we should respect that.”
“I’m not sure I can,” Randall said grimly. “If someone I know hurt her after I was gone…” he trailed off as his hands balled into fists at his sides.
Yordan eyed him for a moment before shaking her head, “Wasn’t anyone you knew. Wasn’t anyone she knew,” she spat. “Just some belligerent drunkard what took advantage of her better nature and took her innocence from her like it was some cheap bauble to be fiddled with for a spell and then tossed in the mud.”
“Was he a soldier?” Randall asked through gritted teeth.
“What does it matter, Rand?” she hissed.
“It matters to me,” Randall growled.
Randall…let this go, Dan’Moread urged. I think this is an instance where you should learn to respect your friends’ wishes.
“I can’t!” he snapped, drawing a short-lived look of concern from Yordan. “I just…I can’t let it go, Yordan. You two are like sisters to me. If I don’t stand up for you then who will?”
“You are standin’ for us,” Yordan retorted, “and you’re doin’ a finer job of it than you ever could by bloodyin’ some poor sod’s face out of ill-spent concern for Ellie. We live in a world what doesn’t treat us proper, Rand,” she said severely. “We’re lucky enough to have each other. What more could we really ask for?”
Randall shook his head grimly, “I’ve heard those kinds of words before, Yordi…but I never thought to hear them from you.”
“What can I say?” she quipped. “The world’s beatin’ me down as surely as it’s beaten down those what came before us. There’s nothin’ special about us, Rand. We’re just like the rest of our kind, and maybe we’d do well to learn how to best accept our place in this world.”
“I won’t do that,” he said tightly. “I won’t stand by while one of my friends is…” he choked on the next word before resuming resolutely, “while one of my friends is raped and pretend nothing happened.”
“Nobody’s askin’ you to pretend nothin’ happened, Rand,” Yordan said, and in her voice he heard something approaching appreciation. “But we are askin’ you to do what you can to leave the past in our dust so we can move on to better things. She’s goin’ to keep the baby and we’re all goin’ to help her raise it—and we’ll raise it just like it was our own, since that’s exactly what it is,” she added proudly. She stirred the fire with a long branch as she finished, “The world’s got enough sufferin’ in it already—and more’s been set aside ‘specially for us, in case you thought it would be rainbows and lollipops from here out. We need to do like she says: focus on the good and leave the bad behind. Otherwise…I don’t think any of us could get up and face the world.”
Your friends are wise, Randall, Dani said approvingly. There is more pain in this world than anyone can know. If you wish to help Ellie, you would be wise to do as she requests.
Randall shook his head defiantly for a long while before finally sighing, “All right…I’ll try, Yordi.”
“That makes two of us, Rand,” she said darkly.
Several minutes passed before Randall decided to check the perimeter of the camp. After he stood and dusted himself off, he turned to inspect the horse team which would draw the wagon the rest of the way to Greystone—more specifically, to his new ‘barony,’ where they would do their best to make whatever lives for themselves that they were able.
“And Rand,” Yordan called behind him after he had taken a few steps.
“Yes?” he turned and saw an uncharacteristically humble expression on the boisterous and crass girl’s face.
“Thank you…for everything,” she said uncomfortably. “You risked a lot to come get us, and if you hadn’t…”
He shook his head dismissively, placing a hand on Dan’Moread’s hilt as he said, “What else are friends for?”
Indeed, Dani agreed.
Chapter XVIII: The Keeper’s Inn
14-2-6-659
The rest of the trip went by with absolutely nothing untoward taking place. Aside from Lorie’s children suffering mild fevers and attendant vomiting, not a single thing happened on the road to Randall’s new home.
“Are we getting close, Doll?” Ellie asked.
“We are,” Randall said as the Reborn River—as he had come to think of it—finally came into view. And when it did, the sight of it stole his breath away.
The slow-moving waters were so clear that even from a hundred paces he could make out individual stones on the riverbed halfway across the massive channel. It was difficult to gauge just how deep the water was, but if his memory was close to accurate then it was somewhere around twenty feet deep at the middle of the river and half as deep near the banks.
“You said this river was dry just a month ago?” Lorie asked incredulously. “That’s…unbelievable.”
“I agree,” Randall allowed before tilting his chin to the north, where the white-and-blue marbleized stone of the keep’s walls came into view, “but it’s the truth—and that’s our new home.”
All eyes turned to follow his gaze, and when they saw the keep for themselves they collectively gasped.
“But…it is so…large,” Ellie said in disbelief.
“How did you manage—“ Lorie began.
“I’ve made a few friends since I left,” Randall interrupted, “some of them closer than others, and some of them seem to view me as just another piece on a board. But they gave this to me,” he gestured to the blue-and-white walls, “and since it seems I can’t get out of some of the stuff they’ve roped me into, I’m going to make the most of this unexpected advantage.”
Yordan whistled appreciatively, “It’s a keeper, all right.”
‘It’s a keeper’ had been what Yordan had said when Randall had rented the loft above the general store for them. Those words, and her elation while saying them, had been among Randall’s strongest memories since leaving Three Rivers. And hearing her say it now caused an unexpected thought to spring into his head.
“Lorie,” Randall mused, “how good are you with tax compliance?”
Lorie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “I kept the Coin’s doors open under the Kheifs, survived the Federation takeover, and passed every single one of the twenty one audits they conducted on me with flying colors—before they gave me the boot, that is.”
“Good,” Randall nodded as a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, “then I’ll want you to look at some papers once we get settled. Oh!” he exclaimed, just now remembering about the strange Hri’tza which he had named ‘Todd.’ “When we get there, everyone just stay out of the main house’s cellar until I’ve taken a look around. There’s…erm…” he trailed off nervously, “well, there’s a kind of former tenant that I made friends with, but he’s both shy and a little terrifying—but just at first,” he assured them when their eyebrows rose in collective alarm. “He’s really pretty sweet once you get to know him,” he added lamely.
“What have you gotten yourself into up here, boy?” Lorie muttered.
The wagon trundled onward until finally reaching, and passing through, the door-less gate which led into the river keep’s main courtyard—or whatever such a wide open space was called.
Dross (Sphereworld: Joined at the Hilt Book 2) Page 22
