Rescuing the Captive: The Ingenairii Series

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “You want a cup of coffee?” the waiter asked to confirm, if anything seeming even more disdainful of the accent Alec spoke with.

  “Coffee? Is that what smells so rich?” he asked, and then confirmed that was what he wanted.

  While the other tables at the outside café were anchored by couples and trios chatting amiably, Alec sat alone at his small round table, a heavy wooden structure that wobbled slightly on the uneven paving stones, and waited for the arrival of his cup.

  The waiter walked by, and a cup was on his tabletop. It was hot. He picked it up and felt the warmth beginning to sting his fingertips. It was very hot, he realized, and he took only a tiny, slurping sip that made the three women look at him in disapproval, then he quickly put the scalding cup down. His expression from the bitter brew was such a frightful grimace that one of the women hid her mouth as she momentarily laughed out loud.

  He wanted to spit, but knew that it wasn’t the way to behave in such surroundings. Wanting to leave his coffee behind, Alec pulled out his money and placed much of it on the table. “How much to pay?” he asked the waiter.

  The man looked at him slightly more favorably, and precisely picked three coins from the table top, then left Alec alone with his disappointing purchase. With nothing else to do, Alec, shoved his money back in his pocket, and sat at the table while he watched the flow of commerce moving up and down the hillside street.

  Four burly men carried a sedan chair up the hill. They all wore matching livery, light blue and yellow, and were clearly practiced at their job, as they held the chair level and maintained a smooth ride while toiling along the road. A handful of other men in the same colors walked nearby, and Alec looked at the chair’s open window to see who ranked such protection; the occupant was a girl, a strikingly pretty girl who stared back at Alec’s scrutiny with momentary curiosity, then gently smiled at him as her passage carried her past his seat. She had a dark olive complexion, and black hair that fell straight to her shoulders, but Alec was close enough to the street side to see that her eyes were startlingly green. There was a flickering trace of a strange feeling in his consciousness, and then Aahh seemed to verbalize within his head.

  As he shook his head, the chair moved on, and Alec’s waiter sidled back over to his table, friendlier now. “You’re lucky today – you got a smile from her! You ought to go to the casino and take advantage of that luck,” he said with a conspirator’s grin as he passed by.

  Alec did not respond to the waiter, as his eyes happened to see a furtive movement in an alleyway just behind where the girl in the sedan chair had passed. There were three or more men loitering in the alley, watching the traffic on the road pass by. They had not attacked the sedan chair, though Alec didn’t know if that was because they were outnumbered by the retainers that travelled with the chair, or whether they had some other target in mind. Alec felt his heart start to race, and his glance moved around the scene, and he realized there were archers atop two buildings, and they too were ignoring the sedan, waiting for some other prey, in positions that some hidden part of Alec recognized as a set-up for an ambush.

  Alec looked up and down the street for the intended target, and saw that a score of soldiers were marching in front of and behind a slow moving wagon. Six horses were pacing in front of the large-wheeled, high sided affair as the driver liberally applied the brakes on the downhill slope of the road, giving the horses an easy task as they stepped slowly along the paving stones. The soldiers’ wagon had passed the sedan chair allowing the soldiers in the back to discreetly tip their caps at the woman inside. Alec’s angle of vision didn’t allow him to see how the girl reacted, and seconds later the point was irrelevant.

  With a shouted order that anticipated trouble, the chair’s carriers broke into a sprinting pace, and for a split second Alec imagined that the girl must be suffering a terrible jostling from the rough new tempo. He diverted his attention from the chair back to the wagon though as he saw soldiers start to fall to the ground in front of the wagon. The archers atop the buildings were raining arrows down in a heavy shower, and the loitering men in the alley were leading an eruption of men who were attacking the soldiers behind the wagon.

  Alec realized there was a smaller person sitting on the bench next to the driver, and the screams and shouts in the air were frightening the child, who was grabbing hold of the driver. In a single fluid motion that he didn’t realize he possessed the ability to perform, Alec pushed his chair back and stepped up onto his table then leapt far out into the street among the melee participants.

  The unprepared soldiers were being decimated. The arrows had stopped falling as the men from the alley finished off the soldiers and began to reach the sides of the wagon. Before he knew where he was, Alec was at the side of the wagon too, using an abandoned sword he had picked up to slice at the hijackers who were climbing up towards the screaming child; he felt a stinging pain on his forearm as he swung the weapon. Reaching the bench, he realized the driver had been injured; Alec could see him slumped over with a blood-stained hand on his stomach.

  Alec leaped onto the bench, slicing again at the ambushers, and landed beside the child, who he discovered was actually a petite teenage girl. He grabbed the reins, released the brakes, and flicked the reins to set the horses moving rapidly down the sloping road. He turned and punched an assailant, then flicked his sword blade up and blocked an arrow. What am I doing? Alec thought to himself for a second, then concentrated on driving the wagon, which was close to running out of control. He looked over his shoulder and saw that there was no longer anyone but the girl and the driver on the wagon with him. He applied the brakes and hauled on the reins, but the wagon held a very heavy load, and he had little luck slowing its momentum.

  Are you friend or foe?” a raspy, gurgling voice on the far side of the now crying girl asked.

  “I’m a friend,” Alec answered tersely, trying to focus on handling the wagon reins.

  “Take care of her. Don’t let her mother have her again,” the wounded man spoke faintly, then slumped forward.

  The road was leveling off as it opened into the marketplace plaza Alec had been in earlier. He turned all his attention to the governance of the wagon as he surveyed the path ahead, and was worried by what he saw. He forcefully applied the brake again and pulled the reins to the right, edging the wagon’s direction as its momentum continued to push the vehicle as fast as the horses were running. His only potential path was a narrow road along the edge of the harbor, and Alec continued to haul on the straps, desperately hoping that he was going to hit his target as the road opening loomed closer and closer.

  The horses entered the paved gap between the buildings, but the wagon was sliding sideways on its wheels, screeching loudly as they slid up over the curb and onto the sidewalk. Alec extended an arm and leaned to his left, pushing against the wall as they passed it. The side of the wagon banged hard into the buildings’ stones as pedestrians screamed and scrambled wildly. There was a crashing sound, and Alec felt the wagon shudder and the wooden side of the wagon tear apart as it hit the wall; the girl beside him was clinging to him now whimpering in fear and shock. The wagon continued to ride on rapidly, bouncing away from the wall and back into the center of the road. A fruit vendor screamed as he failed to move aside quickly enough, and Alec blanched as he saw the man disappear under the lead horse’s hooves.

  As the wagon passed, Alec turned and saw the man lying on the sidewalk, moving and screaming. For a fleeting moment Alec felt relief that the man was alive, then he forgot about the vendor as he realized that the side of the wagon was missing several boards, and that spilling backward in a trail left by the rapidly moving vehicle was a glittering bright stream of golden coins, falling from leather bags that had torn open.

  Shocked by the wealth he realized was on-board the wagon, Alec looked ahead, then flicked the reins and urged the horses to keep running at full speed. They continued onward, scattering more people in the streets as they wove through the
city.

  “Where are we going?” the girl asked. “Will my father be alright?”

  “We’ll talk in a minute. Let me drive this thing,” Alec said shortly. He wasn’t sure if the girl understood him or not, but he had to focus on the perilous trip they were not wholly in control of. He didn’t consider stopping the wagon, let alone trying to take it back; both sides would undoubtedly view him as a thief who had stolen the wagon and its riches from them, promising a hostile reception. Alec thought it would be better to simply find someplace where he could stop, look at the injured driver, and discuss the next step to take.

  Three minutes later, still furiously hurdling over the paving bricks, Alec saw a gate in the city wall, and realized they were ten seconds away from leaving the urban environs. A half dozen guards shouted at Alec, but dove aside as the horses burst through the gateway into the open land beyond. There were houses and shops out here, but less closely packed, and the wagon had no problem following the wider road as it veered away from the harbor and began to climb a low, gentle slope.

  “Now can you tell me where we’re going? Who are you?” the voice beside him spoke again. Alec realized the girl was no longer clutching his arm, but was trying to hold her father up. Looking over at the injured driver, Alec perceived that the man was already dead.

  “My name is Alec. We’re trying to get away from the city before someone comes looking for all this gold we have in the wagon,” Alec answered.

  The horses were growing winded, Alec could sense from their breathing and the slowing pace. They reached the crest of the slight ridge they had climbed, and then began to descend down the back side of the ridge, where a forest stood. Alec looked back and saw they had fallen out of view of the city as the road branched. He chose the right-hand branch, and let the horses slow to walk on a level stretch of road. He looked backwards again, and saw that they no longer were dripping gold coins; the bags that had torn open in the collision with the wall must have emptied themselves out in the city.

  A deep breath escaped his chest, and Alec closed his eyes. He felt a shudder in his soul, like an adjustment of something deep inside him, and he slumped in exhaustion, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Everything has been fast, instantaneous. He had felt incredible power coursing through him, and his body had acted faster than either his mind or anyone else involved in the foiled ambush attempt.

  “Trade seats with me,” Alec ordered as he scooted across the bench. The girl rose over Alec, letting him sit next to her father.

  He confirmed that the father was dead. His eyes were closed, and his head lolled weakly backward and forward. He’d been stabbed in the chest and stomach, and lost a great deal of blood.

  Alec turned back to his companion. The girl’s face turned up to look at his, and he saw both fear and trust in her face. “Your father is dead, I’m afraid,” he told her.

  “Did you say he’s dead?” the girl asked. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  Alec silently cursed his heavy accent. “Yes,” he said and paused. “He has died,” he spoke slowly and tried to pronounce clearly.

  The girl gave a sob, and leaned against Alec. He awkwardly placed an arm around her. “God will take care of him,” he said as he pulled her against his torso. He imagined he felt a surge of compassion and affection pass between the two of them. “And I’ll try to help too. I promised your father I’d watch out for you.” Saying it aloud like that to the girl made it feel like a stronger obligation, and he knew he was going to take it seriously. Helping the girl was going to become the focus of his life, instead of aimlessly wandering, as he had been expecting to do just a few minutes ago.

  “Do you know where we are?” he asked carefully. He felt her shake her head no. They were still in the forest, splashing through a shallow ford in a small stream. Through the leaves overhead Alec judged that the sun had moved a fair distance across the sky. They passed a farm house on the other side of the creek, a small clearing beside it serving as field and pasture. It was the only structure Alec remembered seeing since they had crested the ridge and entered the forest, and they quickly left it behind as the horses continued to pull them.

  A half hour later they had ridden in silence, the girl quietly resting against Alec, as he pondered what had happened during the day. He saw a narrow lane, and pulled the reins to stop the horses, then lifted the girl down, hopped to the ground after her, and took the halter of the lead horse to coax the team to pull the wagon into the shadows off the road. “We ought to give your dad a burial. Is that okay?” he asked the grieving daughter. She nodded silently without looking at him.

  Alec stopped the team and walked back to the wagon bed. He had no tools suitable for digging he realized, but he held a faint hope that the wagon might hold something useful. His hope was justified, for when he raised the tarpaulin covering his precious load, he found two crowbars that he thought could serve to dig a shallow grave.

  With one bar in his right hand, and his left hand grasping the palm of his companion, they walked off their path into the woods. A small knoll was alone, without trees growing upon it in a grove of majestic elm trees. “Would your dad like this place?” Alec asked the girl. When she silently nodded yes, he put his bar to work, gouging out chunks of the soft soil as he dug the grave for the dead man. The sky was getting dark, and Alec hurried his task. He had a vague uneasiness about the notion of leaving the dead man unburied during the night, and when his grave was just barely acceptably deep enough he hurled the crow bar into the soil, where it stuck and stood like a spear.

  “Let’s go get your dad,” Alec mumbled, and he led the girl back to the wagon. With the dead body hoisted on his back, Alec carried him to the grave, then arranged him as respectfully as he could, while the girl watched.

  “What was your dad’s name?” Alec asked.

  “He is called Wellson,” the daughter answered.

  “And what is your name?” he asked.

  “I’m Bethany,” she replied.

  The world spun around him, and he closed his eyes as he fell to his knees. The name meant something to him; he felt emotions and thoughts tumbling around in some boxed and untouchable part of his brain.

  “Are you okay?” the girl asked as she saw tears on Alec’s cheeks.

  “Yes, I’m okay. Bethany,” Alec said as he picked himself up, “would you like to say something about your dad? We’re going to bury him here, so that his spirit can go to heaven. You can tell him good bye now if you want to.”

  Bethany looked up at Alec, then down at the man’s body in the ground. “I love you daddy, and I’ll be a good girl. I’ll,” she paused and said no more, though Alec waited patiently for her to finish.

  She looked back up at Alec. “Are you going to say anything to him?”

  Though caught off guard, Alec didn’t want to hurt the girl’s feelings. “Wellson was a good man. He cared for and died trying to protect his daughter. Please take good care of him God, and take care of everyone who is still here who loved him too.

  “I think we’re done,” Alec said. “I’m going to bury him. You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to.”

  “This is different from burning him like everyone else does, but if you say it’s okay then go ahead,” Bethany replied.

  Alec had stooped to begin pushing soil back into the hole, but paused, as he struggled to understand the girl’s words. “This is the way people treat the dead where I come from.”

  “Where’s that?” Bethany asked.

  “I don’t remember,” Alec admitted, then began pushing dirt forward, quickly covering the body. They walked back to the wagon, where the horses were rested and looking anxious to leave the confined narrow forest lane.

  Alec had no idea of where to go or what to do. He foresaw only trouble and punishment if he tried to return the wagonload of gold to Krimshelm. He straightened the sideboards of the wagon to hide the damage it had sustained, then led the horses to a spot with fewer trees, and tu
rned the team in a tight radius, then walked them out to the road again. The sun was setting on one horizon, while a nearly full moon was rising on the other.

  “What’s your name?” the girl asked again as the wagon resumed its trip away from Krimshelm, forgetting in her shock that he had told her already.

  Alec was at a loss about what to do, and so had decided to leave Krimshelm further behind for the time being. He had faint hopes of finding someplace they could feed themselves and the horses, although Alec wasn’t going to let the wagonload of gold leave his sight.

  “My name is Alec,” he told the girl as he straightened the wagon’s path on the forest road. “But maybe you should call me your brother when we’re around other people,” he suggested.

  Bethany looked at him with eyes that seemed full of discernment, but she made no comment. “When can we have dinner?” she asked instead.

  “When we see a tavern, we’ll get some food,” Alec promised. “I don’t know how long that will take.” He felt his own stomach rumble, and felt sure the girl had to be hungry as well.

  Bethany sat silently beside Alec, leaning slightly against him. Alec expected some question or comment to emerge, asking why her father had died, or where they were going, but the girl sat bravely beside him, putting her future in his hands. He appreciated her bravery, while at the same time he shook his head at the notion that anyone would knowingly cling to a reed as weak as he was.

  He had no real idea of who he was, or where he came from. He didn’t remember anything of his past from the time a few weeks ago when he’d awoken in a row boat on the sea. The members of the crew of the Ingrid had speculated that he was the only survivor of a ship that had sunk, but his row boat was too small to realistically be a lifeboat for a sea-going vessel, and his language was completely unknown, unlike anything that existed among all the lands and islands that were Krimshelm’s world.

  Alec had tried and tried to dredge up memories, but other than inexplicable flashes, such as the shock of familiarity that Bethany’s name had brought, there was nothing he knew about himself. Except he now knew he could fight and react fast, as had occurred when he’d taken control of the wagon. He had no idea why he had the ability, but it had been a completely natural action.