Both men pulled back, each taking a moment to catch his breath. Sweat was streaming down Lorik’s face. His simple cotton shirt was soaked with sweat. He ran the back of his left hand across his brow and strengthened his grip on his axe.
Then Thuryk charged forward again, thrusting his sword straight out in front of him, trying to run Lorik through. But the teamster deflected the blade to one side and lowered his shoulder. The collision seemed to shake the inn, but neither man was moved. It was like watching two bighorn sheep charging into one another. They both pulled back for a moment and then slammed together again, shoulder to shoulder, both men straining. Then, as if the earth was tilting out of kilter, Thuryk was pushed back. The outlaw’s eyes widened in surprise, and he drew back his fist and struck out at Lorik, who was still leaning into his opponent. The haymaker could have ended the fight, but Lorik saw it coming and raised his axe, which he was still holding with two hands. The axehead came up broadside in front of the outlaw’s massive fist. The impact pushed Lorik back a few steps, but it also caused Thuryk to cry out in pain. His hand was bruised at best, but probably broken. He shook his hand, hoping to relieve the pain.
Then Lorik swung the axe at Thuryk’s hip. The outlaw parried with his sword, it was a reflex born out of years of fighting, but few weapons were as formidable as the teamster’s axe. The sword stopped the axe, but pivoted up and dug a searing gash in the outlaw’s leg. Thuryk was now in a fit of rage. He began hacking wildly with his sword. Lorik dodged most of the blows, conserving his strength. And then the tide of the battle turned abruptly. Lorik was holding his axe at the bottom of the handle with one hand and the other near the axehead. It was a defensive posture, but the teamster had been waiting for his opportunity to arrive. It came from a massive, overhead blow, which Lorik caught on the top of the axehead. Lorik twisted the axe, spinning on one foot so that the sword was caught between the curved points of the axe head. It only held for a moment, but that was all the teamster needed. In the same spinning motion he raised his foot and used his momentum to smash his boot down on Thuryk’s knee.
The infamous raider’s leg buckled, and he screamed in agony as his leg hyperextended and the tendons snapped. His leg stretched out as he limped back on his good knee and used his free hand to balance his body. Sweat stood out on his forehead as he composed himself, holding the massive sword out in front of his body to ward off another attack. But now the sword trembled, and the raider’s jaw clenched in pain and hatred.
“Throw down your weapon,” Lorik said angrily. “Your men are gone. Your time here is finished.”
“Never,” said Thuryk.
“Don’t be a fool.”
Thuryk spit in defiance.
Then, the raider who had been attacking Stone suddenly rose up and rushed forward. Lorik took a step back to defend himself, but the raider wasn’t rushing toward the teamster. He was rushing at Thuryk. He batted the big outlaw’s massive sword aside with his club and ran headlong into the wounded raider. Thuryk fell back, screaming in pain as his leg twisted across the wooden floor. He dropped his sword and heaved his fellow outlaw over his head. The raider flipped over and crashed onto a table, smashing it to kindling.
Thuryk was reaching for his sword again when Lorik’s axe came down. It severed the infamous outlaw’s arm just below the elbow. The axe buried into the wooden floor and held fast. Thuryk passed out, and his compatriot-turned-enemy looked up, baffled.
“Get out,” Lorik said menacingly.
The man ran limping from the inn. Stone got up slowly. His arm was throbbing in pain, and he must have had a look of disbelief on his face.
“What?” Lorik said. “You said to come running when I heard noise. I didn’t know I was going to be fighting all of Thuryk’s men by myself.”
“Hey, I was here the whole time,” Stone said, but he couldn’t keep the humor out of his voice.
“What were you doing, watching? I could have been killed,” Lorik said. His tone was severe, but his eyes were sparkling with suppressed laughter.
“Not today you couldn’t,” Stone said. “Today you fought like a legendary warrior. They’ll write songs about you and that axe.”
“I need a drink,” Lorik said. “And a long, long nap.”
They both laughed, and then Stone went upstairs and unlocked all the rooms. The townsfolk were both relieved that their captivity was over and a little timid. The carnage in the common room made most of them uneasy, but the sun was rising so they went out into the cool morning air to celebrate. Stone’s arm was deeply bruised, so he was little help in removing the dead bodies from the inn, but Lorik helped the innkeeper drag the dead raiders outside. Then he joined Stone on a low bench outside the inn and was given a mug of cool ale.
“Have you seen Griff?” Lorik asked.
“No, not since he got me out of the room upstairs.”
“You think he’s still around?”
“I don’t know. He has skills, even if they are nefarious skills.”
“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Lorik said. “We couldn’t have done this without him.”
“No, we couldn’t have. I hope he’s well, wherever he is.”
“I have a feeling we’ll see him again.”
Chapter 13
Stone kept watch while Lorik slept. It was a hot day, but they were given use of a shaded rooftop to rest. The townsfolk were mostly elderly people and children, but the innkeeper was a jovial man, and his wife stayed busy preparing food for everyone. The threat of more raiders returning to Pallsen was very real, so after the initial celebration, almost everyone returned to the inn to help clean up the mess. Floors were scrubbed, bedsheets washed, and broken furniture was removed. It would take time for the town to get back into shape, but for now everyone seemed happy that Thuryk, who had died of his wounds, could no longer hurt them.
The rooftop was flat and afforded a good view of the inn and the town market. Lorik slept with his longbow and arrows close to hand. If more raiders did ride into town, the plan was for Stone to confront the outlaws while Lorik covered him from the rooftop. It was a simple plan, but they were counting on the raiders’ desire to take control of Thuryk’s raiding ship to outweigh their desire for revenge. What plunder they may have taken would be lost, since the raiders no longer had to share it with their fallen leader. But hopefully the word would spread quickly enough, and the townspeople who had been forced to raid with the outlaws would be free to return to their homes.
The innkeeper brought up fresh bread, fruit, cheese, ale, and smoked pheasant. Stone didn’t wake Lorik to eat. He was counting on getting some rest of his own when Roran made it to town with the wagon. His eyes felt gritty and his muscles ached, especially his shoulder, which had turned a dark purple where the raider had struck him with the wooden club. But Stone had dealt with injuries before, some much worse than a deep bruise. Lorik’s stomach was in need of stitches, but he’d had to settle for poultice and fresh bandages. One of the women they had rescued was busy patching up the teamster’s shirt.
In the early afternoon Roran arrived. Stone woke Lorik, who got up without a complaint and went to see about his wagon and cargo. Stone fell asleep, and it was late before Lorik came back to wake him up.
“Time for supper,” he told Stone. “They’ve got a room ready for you at the inn. No sense sleeping outdoors if you don’t have to.”
“Oh, God,” Stone said as he slowly sat up. “I hurt all over. I haven’t been this sore since I was thrown off my horse a few years back.”
“You’re lucky that raider clubbed your shoulder instead of your skull. I’ve seen men lose their senses after a blow to the head.”
“Me, too,” Stone agreed. “Anything exciting happen while I was asleep?”
“We unloaded the wagon,” Lorik said. “And Griff showed up again. He had gone off and hidden in an empty workshop, then fell asleep before finding out how we fared. It’s good to know someone’s got your back,” Lorik said sarcastically.
“I need to give you a little warning,” he said. “The townsfolk here are planning on asking you to stay.”
“What?”
“They know they’re not prepared if another outlaw comes along. They want someone to stay in town who can fight for them. A constable of sorts.”
“Why me?” Stone asked.
“Well, I could say lack of options, but the truth is you’re an experienced fighter. You planned our attack last night.”
“Not by myself,” Stone argued. “In fact, a lot of it was your idea. You did most of the fighting, too. Why aren’t they asking you?”
“They already have, but I turned them down.”
“So why are you telling me this now?”
“I just thought you’d want to have time to think about things.”
“There isn’t much to think about,” Stone said. “I know I’m still new to our partnership, but I don’t have any intentions of backing out now. Are you trying to hint that I should?”
“No, not at all. I was hoping you’d feel that way, but I didn’t want you to feel pressured either.”
“Let’s get some food,” Stone said. “When are we heading south again?”
“Tomorrow,” Lorik said. They continued walking. “I’ve made arrangements for the rice to be stored here until we come back. I was thinking that, on the next trip, we could take the Mascogee out as well as the marsh schooner. There’s lumber at the mill, but no one to trade with. Roran offered to go out and witness what we take. Then we can settle up once we deliver the rice to Yorick Shire.”
“Sounds good to me,” Stone said.
They ate a hearty meal and spent some time with the locals before turning in for the night. They each had a room on the second floor, and the night passed without incident. At dawn both men rose and washed from the small basins in their rooms. When they came downstairs, the innkeeper had a hot breakfast waiting on them.
“Are you sure we can’t convince at least one of you to stay?” he asked.
“No, you’ll be fine,” Lorik said. “I doubt Thuryk’s raiders will give you any trouble. We’ve cut the head off the snake, and they’ll be busy fighting each other. None of them have the audacity to try and hold an entire town.”
“We’d still feel better with one or the both of you around to make sure things get back to normal.”
“It’s going to be a new normal,” Lorik said. “You’ll need to keep a small armed force employed until the King gets back from playing war.”
“You think the army will be gone long?” the innkeeper asked.
“It’s hard to say. There hasn’t been a full-scale war in centuries,” Lorik explained. “Who knows why it’s happening now? All we can do is go on living. The Earl will hear about Thuryk’s attack, and surely he’ll send some help from Yorick Shire.”
“I hope you’re right. All these rumors of war and dragons in the north, it makes an old man like me nervous.”
“We’ll be back before too long. No more than three weeks I would think,” Lorik said. “We’ll check in on you.”
“Good,” said the innkeeper. “You’ll always have a room here, Lorik. Both of you.”
“We appreciate it,” Lorik said.
They gathered their belongings and set out. The wagon rumbled along the road as they made their way to the lumber mill. It took a full hour to get the lumber they needed. The neatly stacked wood was then tied down and covered once again with canvas.
“That lumber won’t be as comfortable as the rice,” Stone said ruefully.
“True enough,” Lorik said. “But it will be better than sleeping in the mud. Let’s go.”
They rode back past the town, Lorik driving the wagon pulled by his two big Shire horses, Stone riding his mare. The people who saw them waved.
“I would have thought you’d have known more of those people,” Stone said. “Haven’t you been trading here for years?”
“Sure,” Lorik said. “But I’ve always dealt with the men. I didn’t really know the womenfolk or farmers.”
“That makes sense,” Stone said. “I guess there’s no chance the story of what we did won’t leave the town.”
Lorik smiled, then said, “No chance at all.”
They rode on in silence for a while longer. They made camp by a small stream and were enjoying the last of the fresh rations the innkeeper had given them. There was still plenty of mead in the keg on their wagon, despite the fact that Roran had drunk more than his share after Stone and Lorik left him outside of town. They had been sitting for a while, watching their small fire and listening to the gurgle of the stream.
“I don’t want a bad reputation,” Stone said.
Lorik didn’t answer at first, but considered what the younger man was saying. He’d always been told by his father that a good reputation was worth more than gold, but he didn’t think Stone was in danger of getting a bad reputation for being lazy or dishonest.
“What do you mean?” Lorik asked. “I get the feeling you’re talking about the fight.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Stone said without looking up from the fire. “I want to put those ways behind me. Trouble always seems to come looking for men with a bad reputation. I’ve seen it all my life.”
“Well, saving a town doesn’t give you a bad reputation,” Lorik said.
“No, but killing a well-known outlaw like Thuryk will.”
“You think doing that makes us some kind of target?”
“Yes, in certain circles. People who consider themselves to be fighters are always looking to prove themselves. The best way to do that is to fight people with a reputation.”
“Most of the bad guys in these parts are outlaws. They’re too dumb and mostly too craven to want to fight anyone fairly.”
“Where’d you learn to fight with an axe like that?” Stone asked.
“In Hassell Point,” Lorik said jovially. “I was young once. I got into a fight or two. My dad didn’t want me to carry a sword. He was afraid I’d be mistaken for one of the pirates or outlaws, so he gave me a small hand axe. I used to train with it everyday, although I’ve never really fought with one. By the time I was old enough to really use it, I was smart enough to know I didn’t want to.”
They let the fire die, and Stone took the first watch while Lorik slept. It was a quiet night that passed quickly. After a trading places with Lorik, Stone slept a few hours, and at dawn they set off again. The road was crowded by thick woods on either side. They made camp just outside the Marshlands that night.
It took four more days to reach Hassell Point. They delivered their load of wood to Hollist’s farm and informed him of the situation with the rice. The farmer seemed pleased, and they got back to Lorik’s property just before dark. They saw Vera sitting on the porch. She waved to them as they rode past the house and made their way to the barn.
After seeing to their horses they returned to the house. Vera had made them a quick meal of stewed vegetables, rice, and cheese. There was fresh bread and wine, too. They sat at the small table, and Lorik watched as Vera and Stone took turns glancing shyly at one another. After eating he stood up and stretched.
“That was delightful,” he told Vera. “It’s amazing how much a man gets to missing vegetables when he’s on the road.”
“I’m glad you liked it,” she said.
“I think I’m going to take a walk,” he said. “I’ll check in on Chancy and see if there’s any news in town.”
“I’ll go with you,” Stone said. “I’m staying at the inn.”
“No,” Lorik said. “You need to stay and clean up this mess,” he said, pointing to the table. “It would be rude if we both left.”
Stone knew that Lorik wasn’t scolding him. In fact, Lorik was giving Vera and Stone a chance to be alone
. The gesture wasn’t missed by the young fighter.
“You’re right,” he said. “Thanks.”
“Be careful,” Vera told him.
“I always am,” Lorik said.
He felt hollow as he walked along the path from his home into Hassell Point. He’d always come back to town and sought out Vera. They would spend the evening drinking and talking, before finally going back to her room. There were other wenches to be had, but that wasn’t the issue. He wondered briefly if it was simply that he didn’t care for change. He didn’t have strong romantic feelings for Vera, but he did feel jealous. He could share her body, but he resented sharing her heart. She had always been very interested in what he was doing or what he’d seen in the marshes and beyond. Now, she seemed interested only in Stone.
His feelings surprised him. He was alone now, not physically, but no one else really understood how he felt. Most of the people he knew were content, if not happy, with their lives. It was empowering to know why he felt so alone, but it was also frustrating. He really had no ambitions beyond being a teamster. He liked his work, but there was no lasting satisfaction in it. There was always another load to haul. He had plenty of coin, but growing wealthy didn’t appeal to him. He liked having nice things, but he didn’t crave them the way some people did. He needed to find something that fulfilled him, and while being with Vera wasn’t ultimately fulfilling, it had always been sweet enough to distract him.
He was welcomed warmly when he reached Chancy’s Inn. He declined the offer of food and settled instead for a pint of mead and his customary spot along the far wall of the common room. After Chancy had seen to his other customers, he settled in beside his friend.
“What news of the world, my friend?” Chancy said.
Lorik (The Lorik Trilogy) Page 16
