The Fire and the Fog

by David Alloggia

  With the betting done, and all the players still in the game, the fifth card was turned. The table showed two crosses, a king, a queen, and a seven. It was a good lay, but it left Dan’r’s paired tens in a rather bad spot. He decided he wouldn’t risk any more, not with nothing more than copper showing on the table anyway.

  The toothless man seemed to agree with him, shaking his head and waving his hand in the air over the table, indicating a pass. The stone-faced giant beside him simply shook his head once, and left it at that. He had yet to do anything but shake or nod his head, and the lack of any spoken words was starting to unnerve Dan’r.

  ‘All yours, friend’ he said to the angry man next to him, and he reached to drink from his mug. He started to down the remainder of his beer, but almost choked on the dregs as the balding man grinned, pulled his hand out of his purse, and casually flipped a silver mark onto the table.

  A silver mark. Fourteen hundred copper pennies. Enough to get every man in the bar drunk twice over, at least. It was about what an average worker made in a month’s work, and much more than should ever appear in a rush game at a tavern. Dan’r had been hoping to see a few copper marks, maybe a silver half at the most. The game had just gotten much more interesting.

  Dan’r's hands were already moving as the other three men at the table stood in anger, cursing. He dropped one of the tens in his hand to the straw-covered floor as he reached into his cloak, covering the card swiftly with one booted foot.

  ‘What’re you trying to pull, bastard’ the toothless man spat as he banged his fists on the table, and Dan’r grinned as his fingers touched paper in one of his cloak pockets. The toothless man was no longer grinning contentedly he thought as he grabbed at another paper in another cloak pocket. Money on the table, real money rather than just petty coppers, and raised tempers around the table were starting to attract attention from the rest of the tavern. Between the attention, the tempers, and the money, Dan’r had the feeling he was about to enjoy himself tremendously.

  ‘I’m just taking all yer money’ the balding man shrugged as he leaned forward to grab at the coins. His hands were in the copper, about to start raking it in, when the large, tan man leaned in and put a fist on the table.

  ‘No’ was all he said, and it was all he had to say. The balding man’s hands stopped, and Dan’r grinned even more.

  The table almost didn’t notice when Dan’r pulled a silver mark and the cards from his cloak, and placed them face-up on the table. His ten and duke, with the king, queen, and cross already in the lay, gave him one of the best hands in rush, and his silver mark matched the balding man.

  The balding man had tried to play them all, betting higher than any of them would be able to match in order to take the game, but Dan’r had trumped him, and the table stared as he stood and started to collect his winnings.

  ‘Thank you kindly, friend, but I believe that’s mine’ he said, wondering who would throw first. The money didn’t matter to Dan’r. Even the game didn’t really matter, he was perfectly content winning or losing. What was about to come, though, what was about to come was what he lived for, nowadays.

  Dan’r’s hands had barely reached the pile of money when the short, balding man on his left swung angrily. He threw a right cross at Dan’r’s face, yelling as he leaned into his punch.

  Dan’r knocked the punch aside with his left forearm, then calmly slid off his chair and in towards his attacker, swinging his right fist in a wide arc. The clay mug he had been drinking from shattered against the front of the balding man’s head, and the earthware shards landed on the man as he fell hard to the ground.

  The calls of ‘Fight!’ and the noise of further violence starting sounded as Dan’r turned to face the rest of his erstwhile competitors. Shaved-head and gap-tooth had grabbed what coin they could from the table and were in the process of melting into the jostling crowd of onlookers, but the large, silent man seemed to have gone into some sort of fury.

  Stone-face was no longer stone-faced. His head was red and his teeth were bared in an angry snarl, his shoulders heaving up and down in time with his heavy breathing. The quick change from pure calm to pure rage surprised Dan’r, as did the man’s size. He was significantly taller than Dan’r when standing, at least two heads taller, and his large muscles bulged as he worked himself into a frenzy.

  Dan’r had just set himself, feet wide apart and arms at the ready, when rage-face grabbed the lip of the table and roared, heaving the table end over end towards Dan’r.

  Dan’r quickly ducked under the flipping table, the tabletop passing just over his head as he used one hand to support his low, almost sliding lope under the table and closer to the giant.

  The large man was already reaching both arms out towards Dan’r, intent on grabbing him, when Dan’r rolled under the table. Jumping up quickly from his crouch, Dan’r heard the table smash into the watching crowd behind him. He ignored the sounds; he had more pressing matters, giant pressing matters, in front of him.

  Dan’r reached out with his left hand as he straightened quickly from his crouch, sliding into a half pull-up, half jump as he grabbed the large man’s arm to use as leverage. He planted one foot on the man’s thigh and stood, now two hands taller than the man, as his foe’s arms started to close around him.

  ‘Sorry, friend’ Dan’r apologized, probably unheard over the din of the tavern, then he drove his right fist hard into the large man’s neck, crushing his windpipe. The giant tumbled backwards to the ground, Dan’r still hanging on top of him.

  ‘This is going well,’ Dan’r thought as he shifted forward and tucked in, rolling with the momentum as the limp body under him hit the floor. All of the men at his table were either unconscious or gone, and the brawl had barely started. ‘Take down three or four more, then slip out the door.’ He thought as he rolled into a crouch by the wall, putting a hand against it to stop his roll and steady himself.

  He was about to stand when a chair hit him hard in the back, just moments before his face slammed into the tavern’s hard, wooden wall. He didn’t even have time to curse before the inky black of unconsciousness swept over him.

  ***

  They were finally married, Dan’r thought as he lay in bed, his arms wrapped around his wife. It was their wedding night, and he and Maeglin lay naked under the stars, satin swathes of moonlight streaming in through the broad glazed windows to light their night.

  The moonlight had seemed to dance a slow, watery waltz off them as they moved in another sort of dance, and now it continued to shimmer restlessly as they lay entwined, resting.

  ‘She is beautiful, and she is mine.’ Dan’r thought as he stroked Maeglin’s soft, long hair. She was beautiful. She had a thin nose and full lips, blue eyes and light brown hair, and her neck was long and graceful. He loved every part of her he thought as he kissed her forehead softly, then untangled himself slowly from her drowsing form and left the bed to stand by the window.

  He stood naked in the window, and left Maeglin to sleep a minute. It had been an exhausting day for her, and the beginnings of the night had been exhausting for them both, though the night was not nearly over. The night was just beginning, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

  He stared out at the sea as he stood in the window. The length of the shimmering moon reflected in the calm ocean waters, just as it had reflected off him and his wife earlier. He had never really thought of the moon before, but at this moment he thought it almost as perfect as his wife.

  He could barely believe it as he threw open the tall window and breathed deep the cool, refreshing salt air. Tomorrow they would set sail on one of her fathers’ boats, skirting the million islands before heading for their honeymoon on Kol.

  Thinking of her fathers’ boat reminded him of her father, his father now. He was one of Char’Nath’s lords, and even as a minor lord, he was one of the more important people in Alta. He had been against a marriage since the moment Dan’r and Maeglin first met, years ago. No way
would the daughter of a lord and the middle son of a middling merchant marry. He said often the two should never have met, even as Dan’r continued his attempts to court Maeglin.

  Then Dan’r found his Talent. He became an Artist, a Painter, and Maeglin’s father welcomed him with open arms. In fact, once he became a Painter, it seemed they could not be married fast enough for Maeglin’s father, which suited Dan’r and Maeglin fine.

  Dan’r chuckled to himself. He had been married to a beautiful woman, into a powerful, rich house, and he was an Artist. The gods must be smiling on him.

  Then he felt his wife’s arms wrap around his chest, her breasts pressing lightly into his back as she brushed the back of his neck with a kiss.

  ‘Come back to bed’ she breathed into his back, between his shoulder blades, and he smiled as he turned to face her.

  ‘Yes, my wife’ he said, and he lifted her into the air. She wrapped her legs around his back and straddled him as he kissed her collarbone and carried her back to the bed.

  ‘Yes’, Dan’r thought as he lay her down once more, ‘the gods must surely be smiling me.’

  ***

  ‘Zhe God’s hade me’ Dan’r muttered fuzzily as he woke, groaning, from a splitting headache. He was lying in a pile of refuse, where the tavern bouncers must have thrown him after he was knocked out. He would have to speak to the tavern owner about that. That back wall was entirely too hard, it really needed padding.

  He grunted as he struggled to his feet and began checking his cloak pockets. Everything that mattered was there. He was lucky. He was missing the silver marks from the game, but those were irrelevant. Reaching for one of his cloak pockets, his fingers touched paper.

  Dan’r pulled out a full wineskin from under his cloak, uncorked it, and drank deeply. It was still dark out, and if he got drunk enough, quickly enough, he may still be able to get some sleep. He could move to a more suitable location, get drunk, sleep, and maybe even get rid of the pain in his head.

  Dan’r stumbled a few paces down the alleyway, just far enough to be past the refuse heap he had been lying in, and sat down against a part of the wall that looked no cleaner than the rest. He was not in a garbage pile, and that was good enough he thought, and he drank deeply until the wineskin was empty, then reached into his cloak for another.

  Midway through the second skein sleep took him again.

  ***

  The dream; his dream; his nightmare, began again right where it left off. A part of him, that one sober, conscious part of him that always fritted on the edge of his dreams, wished it would end. It never did.

  ‘Come back to bed’ she breathed into his back, between his shoulder blades, and he smiled as he turned to face her. He knew he should be crying.

  ‘Yes, my wife’ he said, and he lifted her into the air. She wrapped her legs around his back and straddled him as he kissed her collarbone and carried her back to the bed.

  ‘Yes’, Dan’r thought as he lay her down once more, ‘the gods must surely be smiling me.’

  It was a restless, exhausting night, and as the sun rose over the horizon, Dan’r and Maeglin reluctantly slept.

  Several hours later, early in the afternoon, the time of the day when the sun beats down heaviest upon the world, the two stood at the rail of a wide boat. Arm and arm, they waved to the family they were leaving behind on the shore. None of Dan’r’s blood family was there, but that could not be helped. Still, he supposed as he gave up waving to the specks in the distance, those specks were his family now. He had a wife, and a family again. And soon he and his wife would have a family of their own.

  Dan’r promised himself he would be a better father to his children than his father ever was.

  The boat was called The Kingfisher. It was a wide boat, and it wallowed slowly through the water, but its thick mainmast and billowing sails gave it an air of sturdiness that Dan’r appreciated. Besides, he thought as he turned to his beaming wife, who had just let down her waving hand, they had nothing else if not time. They had allowed themselves two months of honeymoon, and even when they returned, neither would need, nor be expected, to work. They could spend the rest of their lives in each other’s arms, without a care in the world.

  The couple had eyes only for each other as they turned and, arm in arm, gazed with barely concealed longing at each other. As far as they could care, they were alone on the boat, drifting slowly through the waters on a ship that sailed itself.

  There were sailors of course, climbing through the rigging and running over the well-polished deck, hauling in the long oars and setting the billowing sails. There was a Captain as well, bellowing out orders to his crew. Behind them all, in the background, watching as always, was Om’bh, Dan’r’s watcher. He was always there, and had been since Dan’r came into his Art. But Dan’r had learnt to ignore him. As the world spun slowly around the couple, they might as well have been standing alone on the water, nothing but blue sea to be seen in any direction.

  ‘We have two days of sailing before we reach our first stop, love’ Dan’r said eventually, basking in the warmth and glory of his marriage.

  ‘Oh no!’ his wife started, mockingly placing her small hands on her delicate lips and opening her eyes wide. ‘Whatever shall we do?’

  ‘I fear we must retire, before these harsh winds and cold waters disturb your delicate frame.’ Dan’r replied imperiously as he swung his arm wide, pointing at the calm, blue sea and cloudless sky above, the air filled with nothing but sunshine and the cries of gulls.

  ‘Your concern touches my heart.’ Maeglin said sarcastically, and lovingly, as she wrapped her arms around Dan’r’s, and the two retired, arm in arm, to their cabin below decks, to resume where they had left off the night before. And the cries of gulls were no longer the only cries to fill the calm sea air.

  The ship spent two weeks touring the Million Islands, coming and going at the couple’s whim. Dan’r and Maeglin made love, annoyed the sailors, visited secluded beaches, and stayed in small coastal towns and villages. Everywhere they went, Maeglin would tell people they were newlyweds. The women would gush and gossip and whisper with Maeglin, the men would simply glare at Dan’r, standing proud and love-struck behind her. In short, it was the beginning of a perfect honeymoon.

  At last, the ship left the Million Islands and started the four day voyage to the secluded island of Kol, commonly said to be the most beautiful locale in all of Alta. The Char’Nathi Emperor himself was said to have at least two homes on the island, possibly more. It was expensive to visit, and even more so to stay, but for an Artist and the daughter of a Lord, that was of no hindrance or concern.

  Dan’r and Maeglin spent much of the voyage in their cabin, recreating and sleeping. It was during one of these periods of deep sleep that it happened. Dan’r and Maeglin lay naked in bed, wrapped in each others arms after being rocked to sleep by the waves of the ocean. So deep was their sleep that they didn’t notice the ocean swells growing larger, the drops as the ship crested the swells deepening.

  Dan’r woke with a start as lightning crashed just above the ship. His heart lurched in his chest and his stomach heaved as the ship entered a brief moment of weightlessness as the ship crested a large swell in the ocean. Then it fell.

  Dan’r stood quickly, and shook Maeglin awake. Moments after she woke, he could see the fear he felt reflected in her eyes.

  ‘It will be alright’ he said as he embraced her fiercely, and they clung to each other for several moments, their hearts and minds pitching up and down with the movement of the ocean. Dan’r eventually, reluctantly, pried Maeglin’s arms from his own, and broke contact.

  He quickly pulled on breeches and boots that had lain in a pile, discarded there haphazardly much earlier in the day, and was pulling on a wrinkled tunic when Maeglin spoke.

  ‘I’m scared’ was all she said as she wrapped the bed sheets tightly around her, holding them up to her neck in her trembling fists.

  ‘Me too’ Dan’r replied simply. ‘Ge
t dressed, but stay in the cabin’. Then he turned and sprinted up the stairs to the door to the main deck.

  As he opened the heavy wooden door, fierce wind and heavy rain began to batter at him. He stumbled, and fell to one knee, as the ship pitched and yawned in the storm.

  He wondered where the storm had come from as he stood in the doorway. As he blinked through the biting rain, Dan’r could see sailors rushing about the ship, several working at cutting away the madly thrashing mainmast.

  ‘How can they do this’ he thought as he crossed the deck in a half-crawl, watching the sailors rushing quickly about the ship as he slowly made his way to the rise at the back of the ship, to the helm where the Captain stood. He reached the stairs and climbed them slowly, his hands holding tightly to the slick rails as he moved cautiously, step by careful step.

  He had barely reached the top when the Captain appeared out of the rain in front of him, and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, the larger man’s hands knotting into fists in the fabric of his shirt as he shook Dan’r.

  ‘What’re you doing up ‘ere, fool? He roared. Had Dan’r not already been soaked through from the rain, he would surely have been covered in angry flecks of spittle from the furious Captain.

  ‘Will the ship be okay?’ Dan’r yelled back, but the Captain seemed to ignore him.

  ‘Get back below decks, you fancy idiot’ the Captain yelled back, and Dan’r grabbed the arms that still held his tunic.

  ‘Will she be alright?’ he yelled, and he left the Captain to decide whether he meant the ship or his wife. He wasn’t totally sure himself.