Though not a great producer of goods, the village thrived by being a stop-off point for commerce. They boasted some of the finest blacksmiths and liveries for a hundred miles, and provided a welcome respite for many a weary merchant or pilgrim. The inns were clean and comfortable, and frequented by traveling entertainers who often provided a lively nightlife. Overall, Sharpstone was a decent place. That is, until the dark times began.
It had been six years since what the villagers called the Long Freeze. The winter did not break, and the planting season came and went. Many villagers became ill and died. Gewey remembered the sadness in his father’s eyes each morning as they had stared out on the frozen fields during the first year. The thought of those long days of fruitless labor still made his belly ache with hunger. For an entire year, the ground stayed frozen. When spring finally came, the land was different. It seemed as if the life had been sucked right out of it. The crop was small, livestock suffered, and each year Gewey watched his father’s land shrink and dry up further.
The few villagers up and about at that time of the morning waved to Gewey’s wagon as he passed. Mostly, they wished him a good day. Others, however, had earnest business and called for him to set aside time for them. This always made Gewey feel uneasy. He was not interested in business. Despite his ability to turn a profit, he hated bartering and trade.
Before the Long Freeze, the avenue leading to the trading court would have been bustling with activity. However, in recent years shops opened later and later, and a few had even closed, the owners moving to the capital in hope of finding work. As he approached the market square, he could see that it was almost empty, aside from a few vendors who had only just arrived.
Suddenly a scream pierced the air, making Gewey jump in his seat.
He halted his wagon and saw Thad Marshall, the local baker, running from the square. He jumped down and grabbed the man as he passed. Thad was normally a calm fellow, but it was clear to Gewey that something had terrified him.
“What happened?” Gewey exclaimed.
It took a moment for Thad to steady himself enough to speak.
“My wife….” Thad said, “I just saw my wife.” He was shaking uncontrollably.
The baker’s wife had died the previous winter. The whole town had turned out for her funeral.
“Your wife?” asked Gewey, uncertain how to react.
“I know it sounds crazy, but I swear that I just saw her standing in the market. I saw her as clear as I see you now.”
“Are you sure it was her?” asked Gewey.
“There’s no mistake,” he cried. “I was with her for thirty-six years. I’d know her anywhere.”
Gewey looked thoughtfully at the man. “Well, Master Marshall, I don’t doubt your word. The ways of spirits are strange. Who can understand them?”
“You don’t understand,” the baker replied. “She looked decayed and rotten. It wasn’t her spirit I saw.”
“You mean you saw your dead wife’s body walking in the market?” exclaimed Gewey, surprised.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Thad said, tears streaming down his face.
“Did anyone else see her?” he asked.
“No…m-maybe…I don’t know,” he stammered.
Gewey helped the baker into the wagon. “Come,” he said. “Let’s see if we can find out what’s going on.”
The baker nodded slowly and slumped down in the seat, tears still pouring down his face. Gewey urged the horse forward in the direction of the market. He didn’t think the baker would lie, and he wasn’t the unstable type, but a grieving man’s mind could sometimes play tricks.
Gewey guided his wagon across the square to the far end, near the entrance to the river dock, and halted. Thad doubled over with his face buried in his hands. Gewey hopped down from the wagon and put his hand gently on the baker’s arm.
“Come on, Master Marshall,” he said, using his most soothing voice. “Show me where you saw her.”
Slowly, Thad crept from the wagon and led Gewey to the corner of the market where he usually set up his stand.
“She was standing right there,” he said, pointing a few feet ahead of them. “At first I thought I was seeing things, but she looked right at me.”
Gewey examined the area, but could find nothing out of place.
“Wait here,” he said. “I’ll ask around and see if anyone else saw anything.”
Gewey questioned the few people there, but no one had seen anything other than the baker screaming as he ran out of the market.
“What could have scared old Thad so badly, I wonder?” asked Melton Fathing, a local artisan and town gossip. “I was just about to check on him.”
“It was nothing,” answered Gewey, quickly walking away. He certainly didn’t want to humiliate Thad, and Melton would already have started talk. Besides, he didn’t like Melton.
Gewey told Thad that no one else had seen his wife.
“I’m not making this up!” Thad exclaimed.
“I’m not saying you are,” replied Gewey, trying to calm the man down. “Why don’t you go home? I’ll keep an eye out and let you know if anything unusual happens.”
“Maybe you’re right,” said Thad. “Maybe I just need to rest. It’s been so hard this last year, losing my wife and all. Business hasn’t been the best, either.”
The rest of what Thad said trailed off into incoherent mumbling as he stumbled from the square. Gewey noticed Melton staring intently and forced a smile. ‘Best to let it be,’ he thought to himself.
It took him only an hour to unload his wagon. He had always been good at physical labor. His father bragged that his son could outwork ten men. Though this was true, Gewey always held back when others were around. He didn’t want people to think he was odd or different, and if people knew how strong he really was, the talk would start.
The rest of the day was uneventful as he sold his hay, most of which went to the livery. Gewey did as he promised and kept watch for anything unusual, but thankfully saw nothing.
His wagon empty and his purse full, Gewey began the long trip back to his farm. He stopped by Thad Marshall’s house to check on him but there was no answer. Probably sleeping, he thought.
As he turned toward his wagon, he noticed a shadowy figure approaching from the avenue. The evening shadows obscured his features, but Gewey knew right away who it was. His long strides and graceful motions gave him away.
“Hello, Lee,” called Gewey.
The man said nothing. Lee Starfinder was a strange sort. He was nearly as tall as Gewey, though not as wide in the shoulders. He had distinctly sharp, angular features and deep olive skin. He had moved to Sharpstone more than ten years ago, claiming to be a nobleman and scholar, from north of the Razor Edge Mountains, here to retire and live out his days quietly. Gewey, however, thought he had the look of the sea-people from the coast of the Western Abyss. He kept to himself and employed several local artisans, so the villagers made little fuss about the man’s oddities and reclusive nature.
Lee walked straight up to Gewey and pressed a letter into his hand.
“Wait until you get home to read it,” said Lee. “No questions, boy.”
Gewey stared at the man, his mouth gaping. Lee spun around and strode off, leaving Gewey baffled. He stared at the letter. It was old and yellow, but the seal was unbroken.
“Great,” muttered Gewey. “A long trip made even longer.”
Gewey continued on his way home, trying to think about anything other than what the letter might reveal.
Chapter 2
The ride home seemed to take forever. Gewey had put the letter in his pocket, but could hardly resist the urge to open it. He tried to push his horse to move faster, but it did no good; she was a workhorse, not a racehorse. By the time he reached his farm he could barely sit still. He put the wagon and horse away in record time, and almost pulled the front door off its hinges on his way inside. The house was dark and cold. Gewey frowned, realizing that the let
ter would have to wait until he’d tended to the fire and lit the lanterns. Once these tasks were completed, Gewey finally sat down in his father’s chair next to the hearth and retrieved the letter from his pocket. He stared at the seal for a moment, and then carefully opened it.
My son,
If you are reading this, my time on this world has passed. As I write, you are but two years old. Should I die before you are old enough to hear what I need to tell you, I will entrust this letter to Lord Starfinder. I have known him for many years, and he has said he plans to move here soon to retire. What I am going to tell you will not be easy for you to understand, but you must try.
I am not your real father.
Gewey nearly dropped the letter. He felt like a hammer had struck him between the eyes. He read the line again in disbelief, and then continued.
Believe me when I say that I could not love you more, even if you were my own flesh and blood. You were given to me to care for when you were an infant. A merchant who happened by our farm as he traveled south to Millhaven Springs had found you. He told us he had run across a small caravan that had been attacked by a band of marauders, and that he had found you in the rubble. He told us he could not care for you, and asked that we take you in. Your mother and I had no children of our own and did not question such a blessing from the gods. The moment I looked at you, I knew you were my son. I even managed to deceive the village elders as to your identity, but I suspect they wanted to be deceived.
Six months had passed when Lord Starfinder came to visit me. I knew him in my younger and more adventurous days. He told me he had come to purchase horses, but I believe he had other motives. We may have fine horses here, but the weeks of travel would have made such a journey unprofitable, and, at the very least, uncomfortable. I told him the truth about how you came to us, and he didn’t look surprised when he heard my story. The fact is, I believe you are the reason he came in the first place, and I believe you are the reason he moved here. He stayed for two weeks, buying up nearly every horse in the village - most of which he turned right around and sold again - and each night before sundown, he came to visit. He claimed that it was to enjoy simple hospitality and tell old tales, and at first his visits didn’t seem odd. Lee was always one for a good story and decent wine, but I began to suspect different reasons when he insisted on holding you every night until you went to sleep. He had never really cared for children, but when he held you, he smiled and ignored everything else until you were in your crib.
On his last visit, after he had rocked you to sleep and your mother left the room to put you down, he told me that you were special, and that the gods had blessed you with a great destiny. At first, I thought he was playing a joke, but the look in his eyes told me otherwise. When I asked him how he knew this, he waved me off and said that eventually it would be revealed. The man has always been somewhat of a mystery, but I believe he’s right. Even as a baby, I can see that you are special.
Son, you are destined for great things. Go see Lord Starfinder. He has knowledge of the world that you will one day need. He can be a little strange sometimes, but men like him always are.
Remember, son, I love you with all my heart, no matter what destiny has in store. Frankly, I hope Lee’s wrong, and that you stay with your mother and me until we’re old and gray. I would love nothing more than to look at my grandchildren as I look at you now.
All My Love,
Father
Gewey sat in silence. He felt as if his whole world had been stripped away. Why had his father never told him? This had been written when he was a baby, so surely there had been time. He felt confused and angry. None of it made sense. Why wait so long? Why the deception in the first place?
Gewey read the letter repeatedly, as if the words might change and his life would make sense again. But each time he found new unanswered questions. Finally, he stood up and ran out into the brisk night air. He felt dizzy and leaned against the porch. After a few minutes, he staggered back inside and went to bed. It would be several hours before sleep took him.
He went over his life in his mind, trying to remember some clue, some insight that might help him to understand, but came up with nothing. As far back as he could recall, his father had never been anything but that - his father. He tried to slow his mind and rid himself of his anger, remembering the love his father had always shown him, and the love Gewey felt for him in return.
Gewey fell asleep with one thought in his head: Lee Starfinder, he told himself. Tomorrow I’ll go see Lee Starfinder. Maybe he has answers.
That night, Gewey’s dreams were filled with horror. Visions of death and destruction swirled around him like a storm. Vast armies slaughtered each other, spilling oceans of blood. The sick and dying screamed out in agony. He tried not to look, but could not turn away. Trying to force himself awake only took him deeper into even more terrifying visions. Just when he thought he could no longer take it, the world exploded into a great ball of flame. Slowly it burned away until there was nothing but utter darkness, so complete that he could feel it. It wrapped around him, pressing in until he wanted to cry out in despair. It penetrated his mind and soul as if it sought to possess him completely. He fought desperately to get out, but there was nothing to fight against. The darkness yielded and contracted with every move he made. Just when he felt as if he would be overcome, a voice boomed out.
“Child,” it said. The sheer volume of the voice nearly split Gewey’s head in two. “Why do you resist?”
“Who are you?” asked Gewey. His own voice seemed weak and small.
“Who am I?” the voice shot back, almost mocking. “I am he who knows the answers to your questions. I am he who can give you what you seek.”
“I don’t understand,” said Gewey. “What questions?”
“I can tell you who you are, young one,” it replied. “The lies that surround you - the reason for your existence can be made clear. I can show you how to use your power to gain all you desire.”
Gewey’s mind reeled. He felt the malice and hatred in the voice, but was compelled to listen. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself.
“You’re not real,” said Gewey finally. “You’re in my mind. I’m dreaming.”
“Of course you’re dreaming,” scoffed the voice. “But I am real. In your heart, you know it to be true. You’ve always known it. Didn’t you feel me watching you, protecting you?”
“Protecting me?” asked Gewey. “Protecting me from what?”
“It was I who brought you to safety so long ago,” it said. “It was I who has kept you secret from the world. But it is now time.” The voice paused. “Time for you to join me.”
Suddenly another voice burst into his mind. “He lies, Gewey! Don’t listen to him!”
Gewey felt as if a spell had been broken. “If you know me, then tell me who I am,” he said. “If you wish for me to join you, then send for me.”
“Of course,” answered the first voice. “Just tell me where you are, and you will be with me.”
“Don’t you know?” asked Gewey. “Aren’t you the one who brought me here?”
There was a long silence. Gewey felt the fury of the darkness press in.
“Tell me where you are, boy.” Its tone became threatening. “You cannot hide from me. I will find you.”
The darkness pressed harder and harder. Gewey wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go - no ground beneath his feet and no light to run to. His limbs felt heavy as panic set in.
“You cannot run,” the voice laughed. “You are mine.”
The darkness was crushing down on him. Gewey could no longer move or speak.
“Give in,” said the voice. “You fight me for nothing. I can help you. I can give you all that you desire.”
Gewey let out a final, desperate scream. The voice laughed, then faded away.
Gewey woke up drenched in sweat, his heart pounding like a drum. He could still feel the weight of the darkness on his chest, and the laugh
ter of the voice echoed in his head. It took him a few minutes to calm down enough to get up and pour himself a cup of old wine. He barely tasted it as he quickly drained the cup. Just as he was about to pour another, he heard a horse galloping up to the house. Fear gripped him. He scanned the room for a weapon. The small knife he used for work was still in his pack in the barn, and his axe was in the shed on the side of the house. He spotted a carving knife on a shelf next to the cupboard and snatched it up. The hoof beats stopped, and at once there was a bang at the door.
“Gewey, open up.” It was Lee Starfinder.
Still gripping the knife, Gewey crept to the door and cautiously pulled it open. There stood Lee Starfinder, covered in sweat and still wearing his silk nightclothes. In his right hand he held a small sword. Gewey backed away from the door.
“Come with me,” commanded Lee. “We need to leave.”
Gewey stood in silence, unable to move.
“No time to lose your wits, boy,” said Lee, pushing past him. He scanned the house. “Nothing that can’t be left behind, I suppose.”
Gewey snapped out of his stupor. “Leave behind?” he cried. “What in blazes are you talking about?”
Lee looked impatient and on edge, not to mention odd in his nightclothes.
“Do you have a saddle?” asked Lee.
“A saddle?” Gewey repeated. “Why do I need a saddle?”
“Please don’t ask stupid questions.” Lee caught Gewey by the arm and pulled him toward the door. “If you have a saddle, get it. If not, I guess you’ll ride bareback. My horse can’t carry us both.”
Gewey snatched his arm away from Lee’s grasp. He leveled his eyes and straightened his shoulders, his fear replaced by anger. There was no way he was leaving without some sort of explanation. Lee noticed Gewey’s posture and grinned slightly.
“That’s the attitude we’ll need in the days to come,” said Lee. He motioned for Gewey to sit. “I hope you can appreciate that every minute we delay puts us both in greater danger. And if you hadn’t noticed, I am in a hurry.” Lee gestured to his own attire.
The Godling Chronicles : Bundle - Books 1-3 Page 2
