by P. G. Thomas
Lauren took a sip of her drink, “And of Mother?”
“I’m more used to, well, bringing down governments. We need to find one of these forests, seeing if we can figure out what’s wrong with it. Maybe see if we can find some of these Earth Mothers as well, but like your tall, pale friend said in that forest, you did it before so do it again.”
Lauren looked over the expanse of the Bright Coast, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Not expecting you to solve it today, just think about it,” advised Steve.
“We need to do something about the dog show in the front room,” started John. “Gayne’s afraid they may not be house trained, and his servants are looking scared. I thought we should pick them up some new clothes to wear over their armor.”
She tilted her head, “How do you want to dress the blood wolves?”
“I meant the Guardians. If you go out with them in this town, nobody will go near you. It’s that, or you can only travel by carriage with them inside it.”
“The Kid is right, they’ll make people talk, and when people don’t understand something, they get nervous, calling the authorities. In this town, it might also give the impression of wealth, making you more of a target.”
“I’ll stay home with them tomorrow, but somebody had better bring back new clothes for them because I will not be a prisoner here.” Standing, Lauren went into the house to find one of the Granite Guardians. The one that held the Heart of Earth Mother was just inside the door, so she asked him, “If I give you permission to speak, can we talk?” He remained quiet. “Can I command you to speak?” Taking a long drink, she sighed, “Okay, here’s the thing. Your blood wolves, can they stay in the stable? They’re scaring the house staff. As well, can you take off their armor and saddles until we know there’s a threat? We’re in the Bright Coast now, and there have been no sightings of trollmares. When people see your wolves, especially wearing armor, they might talk.” The Guardian turned and walked away. Lauren shook her head, headed over to John, “Why don’t they speak?”
Steve said it without realizing the impact it would have, “Because the dead don’t talk.”
Lauren took a long drink and sat down.
“Bor explained them on the terrace,” began John. “When they cut off their beards, it’s their way of leaving part of themselves with their families, so if they don’t return, there’s something to bury. They don’t want to know you or to be your friend like Gor was. They don’t care about you, what you think, where you want to go, anything. Even though Fury said something about of Bond of Protection, Bor never told me about that, but for Gods not wishing to violate it, it must be significant. They only have one purpose: to protect you. Hell, I would be surprised if one doesn’t follow you into the shower. From the sounds of it, they want to return to their families to grow their beards again, but the one thing that scares them is failing you, as that’ll bring shame to their families. They’re on an honor quest, and whether they receive it by returning home or by having their beards interned in the mountains, they’ll have it.”
Lauren pushed her glass away, “They’re dead?”
“Emotionally dead might be a better way to describe it,” Steve added, “They don’t want to know anything about you or even the ones they fight with, as that connection could cause them to be distracted. Imagine they become friends with John, and at some point, a fight breaks out. When they see him being attacked, they go to help, but it’s a distraction, allowing somebody to attack you, which results in the failure of the mission: your protection. Even though they know all of us, they would watch us all die without shedding a tear, as long as you stayed protected. Hell, even if one of their brother Guardians died beside them, they wouldn’t bat an eye. I’ll admit that I loved the guys that I went into battle with, but I also saw some get so angry at losing a friend that they did some of the stupidest things I’ve ever seen. I envy the little guys, having that kind of emotionless detachment.”
Lauren gave her head a shake, being unable to comprehend Steve’s words.
He took a drink and continued, “They say when you die, your life flashes in front of your eyes, but what nobody has ever told you, when you see a friend die a violent death, you also see their life flash by. You see them holding up pictures of their loved ones, remembering them helping you at boot camp, or the time they stuck with you during a fire fight, holding a compression bandage to your chest, so you didn’t bleed to death. However, watching the plane unloaded, the coffin carried by an honor guard with the flag draped over it. They call it a hero’s welcome, but when you look out to the crowd, you see the images from the photos. The grieving wife with her smiling children, who don’t understand death, expecting their father to step off of the plane, seeing the mother bend down, and explaining that their father is in the box, dead…” Steve grabbed the bottle, chugged it, and headed into the house.
Lauren pushed away the tears, “If he is ever going to tell another story like that, I want to know before he starts so that I can leave. Make sure you tell him.” Then she headed into the house, needing the comfort that only Ryan could provide, even though he would not understand the tears.
When Gayne walked onto the patio, he saw the expression on John’s face, “What’s wrong?”
“Steve was just telling us about his past but please, don’t ask.”
“The Guardians are taking their wolves into the stable, taking off their armor. I have to go tell my neighbors, so they don’t get alarmed.”
John took a long breath, “Can we find a way for Logan to bunk with me, and let the Guardians have his room?”
“I will arrange something, but what about the two children?”
“I’ll talk to them, but I expect they’ll find someplace to curl up.”
*******
Lauren came into the room wrapped in a towel, and Ryan was lying on the bed, scratching two large otters, “I think they’re homesick and want to spend the night with us.”
The two otters draped themselves over Ryan’s abdomen, looking at Lauren with their big sad eyes.
“I’ll go put on a nightshirt.”
*******
Steve was the last to arrive at the dining table the next morning, his hangover apparent to all. As he sat down, Lauren rolled a berry to him. “Gingaar gave me some of Mother’s gifts. It’ll help, trust me.”
He picked it up, “Better than a bottle of aspirin?” She nodded.
“I have to go down to the school today,” advised Gayne, “and I would like Mirtza to go with me. Since I wasn’t expecting to be away for this long, I need to check on the security.”
“I would like to go with them,” advised John, “and see if I can find a place to examine that yellow root and maybe have another look at the machine.”
“Can I tag along?” added Ryan. “I would like to take Sam and Hope there to see if they can pick up any scents?”
Both Gayne and Lauren nodded.
“I guess that just leaves the docks. Leotard and Chumpion, do you want to go with me?” Steve reached for a refill of bean juice.
“Bastard.”
“No, that’s you,” replied Steve. “I’m the guy without a title.”
“So why insult me?” asked Eric.
“I didn’t want to discriminate. You know, victimize or favor one over the other.”
Logan set down his mug, “What?”
“I didn’t want to pick on you alone, Kid.”
“Okay,” but then he saw the others smiling, “Wait is he—did I miss something?”
Then Steve picked up his mug of bean juice, and as he took a drink, quickly pulled it back, and began to rub his lip.
Logan, without looking up from his meal, said, “Didn’t your mom warn you? If you play with fire, you’ll get burned.”
Pushing the scalding cup of liquid away, Steve replied, “Rodger that, point taken.”
“You three play nice today. Go down to the docks to see what you can find out.” Lauren turned to Gayne,
“Can you draw them a map, so they can find their way back? Sam, Hope, you stay close to Uncle Ryan and don’t go running off. Mirtza, on your trip back, can you stop off at a dwarven tailor to pick up some clothes for the Guardians so my imprisonment can end.”
*******
As the carriage wandered through the winding streets on the overcast day, the sights that the rest had seen before played out once again. Too many people, too few houses. Too many mouths, not enough food. Hope and hopelessness standing in the same pair of worn, wet boots. During the ride, Ryan, John, Sam, and Hope watched as Eric fidgeted sitting beside Gayne, Logan, and Steve. The last being extremely determined in his arguments that Eric should not bring the sword with the expensive scabbard. Steve’s point was that while Eric was taller than most, being easy to remember, the scabbard would be a beacon of envy, and everybody would remember seeing it. Gayne had advised that it would be best to visit the docks in a hired coach, rather than taking one of the magical ones, being afraid of someone stealing it. As they traveled, Gayne handed the three going to the docks a fistful of gold, cautioning them to be careful, as pickpockets were notorious there. When they arrived at the school, Logan, Eric, and Steve waited for a hired carriage while the rest went inside.
*******
As John, Ryan, Sam, and Hope walked into the room that held the machine, he commanded the magical guard dog to the back corner. As well, the young children obeyed Ryan when he told them they could not pet it. “Your dad said he could encourage the abilities from some of his other shapes to come forward without changing. Can you two do the same?”
Both Sam and Hope nodded, walked up to the stroller, picked up the blankets, and sniffed them. Sam stepped back, “It shouldn’t be a problem since one needed a diaper change. Follow us,” and then they headed into the hall.
*******
After a few hours of examining the machine, locking the room, John went to the lab that Gayne suggested to examine the yellow root. Searching through the drawers and cupboards, he found the necessary instruments or resources that he might be able to use. These included a piece of material, which looked like cheesecloth, and a large pan, having a drain at one end. If the root could kill forests, he wondered what else it could harm, and after seeing Lauren make light with berries, hearing about Nur starting fires with the same, he felt caution was the best course. First, he hung a large cloth bag to contain any affected items, and then, finding a bottle smelling like sanitizing alcohol, he partially filled one pan to wash everything with. Searching through the room, he also found a makeshift surgical mask, an oversized lab coat, and a pair of worn leather gloves. After dressing in his hazmat suit, taking a deep breath, he undid the cloth that held the yellow root, picked it up with a set of tongs, and placed it in the pan. Draping the cloth over the top of the pan, he deposited the tongs into the alcohol, quickly stripped off the garments, placing them in the large bag. As well, he dropped in the cloth that had transported the root, which now had a large yellow stain on the inside. Tying it up, securing the cloth over the root, he then washed both his hands and glasses in the sanitizing liquid. When he thought all precautions had been met, picking up the containment bag, he took it to where a waiting student had a fire burning. Using a long metal pole, he deposited it on the flames, watching the yellowish smoke billow from it, and returning to the room, added water to the root.
*******
Lauren, looking out the back door, watched the Guardians training their blood wolves in the rain. Walking back to the main room, she pulled a chair over to the patio doors, and in her hands, the deceptively heavy gnarled staff. She thought of Tranquil’s words: magic without limits, erratic power, caution, old magic. “Let’s take you for a test drive.” Sitting in the chair, thinking of her daughters, she tried to get the staff to understand the images in her mind, but after an hour, all she had was a headache. She thought back to events with the previous staff; the army of insects, vanquishing the traitors, the volcano, and even blocking the mountain pass. It all seemed so simple. All I did was concentrate, well, except with the volcano. “How do I make you work?”
Chapter 19
It took over an hour to arrive at the docks, and when they did, Steve was overwhelmed. Anticipating a small fishing village scene with short docks, small boats, and a quiet atmosphere, chaos welcomed him instead, as the docks were almost a city within a city. Dozens of wharfs stretched hundreds of feet out into the blue ocean, and while there were numerous fishing vessels, he was surprised to see how many tall multi-masted ships gently bobbed up and down at their moorings. The wharf boards were old, warped with moisture, but because of the heavy traffic seen over the years, they now looked like a playing board from Snakes and Ladders, having each official path sanctioned by time and heavy traffic clearly marked out. The air was a fragrant mix of sea salt, sewage, and fish guts, as where the Key River lost its momentum in the harbor, the contents of the poorly conceived sewer system lost its battle with the ocean. From the lingering scents, it was obvious that the tides were coming in, trapping their deposits from the city in the now stagnate harbor, and the collection of dead fish, being caught in the middle eddy between the two currents, did little to enhance the pungent scent when the winds changed. Wagons of every size, being pulled by horses were like bees in a hive, going from ship to warehouse and back again, with some knowing the paths by memory. Men carrying heavy sacks on their backs, moving in every direction, also added to the confusion. Between the buildings corralling all of the chaos, numerous alleys provided access and exits from the docks.
Steve pointed to a nearby building sign, “What’s that place?”
“Don’t know. Only John can read here,” advised Logan.
“Kid, you should’ve told me that before we left.”
“Should’ve asked, old man.”
“We need a tour guide, so you two just stand here talking, and I’ll find us one.”
“So,” began Eric, “what do you think about Steve?”
“For an old guy, he’s not too bad. Pretty smart when it comes to figuring out some of this stuff.”
“It’s his element,” Eric replied. “Good in a fight. That first trollmare that attacked us, he killed it by himself.”
They heard Steve behind them. “I’d like to introduce you to, what’s your name?”
As they turned around, they saw Steve painfully holding the hand of an unkempt man, his beard scruffy, and his clothes nothing more than rags.
Through an anguished look of pain, he replied, “Friends call me Riptide, but you can call me whatever you want,” and then he let out a painful exhale, “Just let go of the hand, please!”
Changing his grip to lessen the pressure, Steve maintained the control, “Do you spend a lot of time down here?”
“I have papers from the guild, so just let me go. The Watch will do the same.”
Steve turned to Eric and Logan, “Please meet Riptide, pickpocket, and our guide for the day.”
“What do you mean, guide?”
“Well, we’re new here, and you might be able to help direct us,” Steve twisted the hand slightly, causing the thief to react accordingly. “For your services, we’ll pay you an honest wage.”
“Normally, I would say you could not twist my arm for that, but for you, I will make an exception. Now let go of my hand!”
“Before I do, are you going to try to steal from us again?”
Riptide shook his head, his eyes tearing up in pain, “Today, you made an honest man of me, but please, do not make me a cripple, as I have a family to support.” The control grip released, and the thief, grabbing his hand, began massaging it.
Steve nodded, “I need to see a map where all of these ships sail to. Can you take us to the largest sailing company?”
“Lets make this quick. Me, a damn guide. If anybody sees me doing this, I will never live down the shame.” He led them to a large building, which had a line of people waiting to enter. Gaining entry through the exit, on one of the walls the
re was a great map of the sailing routes, including one to the south port town. Steve examined the map, pointed to a dot that he thought was Alron, and asked Riptide what the name on the map said.
“I am unable to since I never learned my letters.”
Steve, sensing an untruth, leaned closer, “You’re lying. If you can’t read, how come you speak so well?”
“The guild, they have classes. Stupid thieves never last long. Everybody knows that.”
Seeing somebody enter, Eric asked if he could help, and pointed to the spot on the map.
“New Town,” the young man replied.
Eric nodded that the name was correct. Then Steve pointed to the south port town. “Oceans End,” he said. Thanking him, they left the building.
Steve scanned the docks, “Now we need a smaller company, not as busy, where an honest man might be able to purchase passage to Oceans End.”
Riptide walked halfway down the dock, guiding them into a smaller building where inside a young male clerk stood behind the counter. When asked, he advised they did not sail to Oceans End. Steve continued the inquiries, finding out that few ships sailed to that port, as it was more common for their fishing vessels to sail to the Bright Coast to trade. The young lad also advised that it took three months to sail there, and he had not seen one of their ships in months, but he did provide the names of three companies that might be able to broker passage. When asked what it would cost to sail there, the young lad checked a chart, quoting him a price. Once outside, he asked Riptide if he thought it was fair.
“Last time me and the family stayed down there, they only charged us half as much.”
“That’s what—I can still break your fingers.”
“No,” and the thief hand’s sought protection under his arms, “Do I look like I sail? Want to know the best spots to pick pockets? Where not to eat? Where to find ladies who provide intimate entertainment? How much to rent a ship? And you think I am stupid because I cannot read. Lets go find these companies.”
