"Upstairs won't do him any good. He can walk but barely, and I don't need you doing yourself damage helping him up these stairs. The daybed should suffice if you don't mind the crowding. I'm headed to Dairy to pick up some horse supplies, if I go via Bunbury I could inquire about a healer, was told one was wayfaring 'round Merchant's Wall."
Serin nodded. "A healer could at least reveal what ails him, if not cure him altogether, his condition is unknown to anyone here in the village. They come at a great cost Clancey, I hope you know this."
"I hope to sweet talk my way to a cheaper resolve, but I will do what I can."
"If your history is anything to go by then our hopes are high indeed," he smiled, and after a shake of hands Clancey made the effort to kneel before Landau.
"Listen lad, while your dad gets better you can stay here with him until I get back, no need to concern yourself with the barn."
"It's alright Clancey sir, keeps my mind busy."
"No problem lad, take your time by all means."
Clancey could not read his blank expression, be it sad or confused, but it was much to digest for someone so young; he scuffled his hair in endearment then left.
The foundlings came from upstairs, despite showing much courtesy Elliott could not cease staring at Nicholas.
"We all care for your father Landau," Melly said, "I’m sure the elders will have him feeling better soon." Jenny and Elliott nodded with her.
"Thanks guys. My dad is strong, it's just his body doesn't know it. He'll be thankful if you don't make a fuss over him. Will be nice staying in a place as warm as this, just hope you guys won't get sick of me," he smiled towards Jenny.
"Are you kidding, we've been sick of Elliott for years and we still can't get rid of him," said Melly.
"All the same guys I'm grateful, honestly it means a lot."
The kids showed him around the Manor, it was large and welcoming, their stone hearth was generous and its fire soft, and many chairs were set to enjoy its warmth. At the other end was an open kitchen where benches surrounded the walls, stacked with vegetables harvested from their garden, with pots and jars containing herbs and leftover breads. A spacious dining area complimented it, with a cedar wooden table set in the center, encompassed by tall chairs, across from it was the Elder’s study, and a wide staircase that led upstairs to all their quarters. Serin gave him a bedroll to lay beside his father, and as the time for sleep came Landau threw a blanket over him, his father’s face inanimate while he stared at the flames.
"'It’s a generous fire dad, not often we get to sleep beside one." His comment fell on deaf ears, not even a glance did Nicholas share. "Do you need another blanket? The Elder told me where to find them."
"No, I'm fine," he said before he rolled over to face away from him.
The chance to sleep by the fire was a warm change, yet despite the enhanced comfort, being absent from home culminated in a restless night.
Two days later Landau returned to Clancey's barn, where lumbermen began building a fence across the stream. The effort invested into a simple fence surprised him; the corners were rounded and the wood was treated and smoothed, it appeared trivial yet the lumbermen assured him the horses would appreciate it.
Since moving in to Serin's Manor Elliott had attached himself to Landau and followed him wherever he went. He warmed to the company and realized Elliott was doing his best to keep his spirits high. It was nice to unload his anguish and thoughts onto someone, even if Elliott didn't entirely comprehend them.
"What do you think this healer can do?" Elliott asked. "Hopefully he has magic powers or somethin’ that can return him to normal."
"My dad is normal," Landau said, but not angrily.
"Just to the way he was, to go fishin', spend some nights at the tavern, like he used to," Elliott clarified. "That time I tripped on the docks and hurt my leg pretty bad, lady Allegra's hubby stitched me up nice and proper, maybe he could help your da. I know it ain’t the same thing, just I overheard the Elder sayin’ these healers are expensive if you can find one."
"What do you know of money?" Landau laughed.
"All I know is the more you have, the better you are."
"That's not true," but Elliott argued his point.
"Look at Clancey, he has heaps of money and everyone loves him."
"Not because of his money. Me and dad don't live on much, you saying nobody respects us any?" The question seemed to confuse Elliott.
"Just sayin' is all."
Landau looked around at what was left to finish, relieved there was little, he could finish today but decided to space his time. Instead of helping, Elliott went through the rubbish Clancey had organized to dispose of, looking for anything of value, while Landau searched through another barrel, only to come across the jade covered book once more, in the distraught of his father he had forgotten all about it.
He lifted it from the barrel and flicked through the pages to let them breathe, most of them blank, before it came to rest on a page, filled with letters all jumbled together, spaced and scribbled in odd directions, none of which formed any meaning.
"What's that?" Elliott asked peering over Landau's shoulder.
"It's a book," he said, realizing he sounded simplistic.
"Is it any good?"
"I don't know, the letters are all scrambled, it doesn't make any sense."
"Every book makes no sense to me, fisherman needn't bother readin'."
Landau crumpled his lips wondering what purpose it had.
"Why would anyone write letters like this? If Clancey has it, it must be of some value I would think."
"I think Clancey's more of a hoarder, but you know, just a really good one. Makes you wonder how he carried all these things about, goin' from place to place as he did. Nothin' seems of much value here, I mean I don't have to go explorin' some old ruins to find blankets and worn out screws," thumbing through the rubbish. "I could find all these in me room."
Landau ran his thumb across the silver linings of the binding, it baffled him how such a decorated book could contain so little.
Toward the day's end he'd managed to clear all the barrels of clutter, all that remained was to move that clutter to the wagons for transport to the Scorched Coast. By sunset Elliott had wandered off, alone in the barn Landau wiped the grime and smut that smothered his fingers before he returned to the book. There was something fascinating about it, and Landau was resolved to find some gratification in exploring it. As the light of the sun cast heavy shadows he decided to smuggle it back to Serin's Manor.
He hiked up the winding road of the Whistling Mountain where inside Serin and the kids prepared for supper. Landau snuck inside and cloaked the book within his bedroll and stored it under the daybed, before his father rolled over to see who was messing about.
"Ah it's you lad," he smiled. "Thought you were that fat friend of yours, keeps sneaking up on me to stare. Strange kid that."
Landau laughed, "come on dad, supper is about ready."
Nicholas joined them for a generous meal and his demeanor had improved, the Elder's company was noticeably good for him. Landau fed his father while the kids regaled in tales from their day, and all of them made every effort to keep Nicholas engaged in the conversation. In the late hours the Elder finished cleaning and the kids soon made their way to bed. Jenny gave Landau a hefty hug before she kissed Nicholas on the forehead, which brought a smile to both himself and the Elder.
"Go upstairs Jenny, I'll be in to tuck you in soon." Serin turned to Landau. "If there's anything you need Landau don't hesitate to wake me."
"Thank you Elder," he said.
As the fire died out, Landau blew out the candles, all except two, one near its end above the fireplace, the other Landau held in his hand.
He tucked his father in and watched as he slept, before he reached into his bedroll to pull free the book. There he sat cross-legged on the floor, hovering the candle over its reflective binding before he turned the cover to explore i
ts pages. He started from the beginning, the pages were empty and for a quarter of the book this repeated. Constantly came pages full of obscure letters but no words, a language he didn't understand, and the rambling arrangement was trying on his eyes. Letters formed lines that projected in all directions, some were wrapped around each other and formed odd circles of characters. The combination of scrambled letters and blank pages constantly went by in a senseless trend, until finally he stopped.
A page, several in fact had distinct writing, shrewd yet detached from the rest of the handwriting, but Landau could understand it, it read like a journal.
'…ve taken everything from me. My love, my life, my home. I would curse thy kin for this, they deserve no less. I feel ashamed of myself, for the House of Clarain, ashamed yet not the least responsible. Her kind didn't deserve this. If only I had stayed. If there…'
The passage had been crossed out, and several times below it. Landau could not make it out, he turned the page where the message continued.
"LANDAU!" Nicholas uttered loudly, startling Landau to drop his book and candle.
"Is everything alright dad?" he checked to see if he was sweating at all.
"Put out the light…please lad," he muttered.
With relief he kissed his forehead, and his father simpered before Landau hopped up to extinguish the candle atop the fireplace, only the soft light from his own candle remained. He moved to pick it up, but the candle settled atop the open book, and its flame danced across the exposed page in eagerness to ignite itself. Quickly he lifted the candle, relieved he was able to prevent a fire, and in the Elder's house no less, yet when he inspected the open book its parchment had not burned, nor even singed.
Curiously he lowered the candle once more to the patulous page, and caressed it gently with the flame for it to catch on fire, but to no effect.
Landau sat there perplexed, and tried several pages, opening to a page full of letters, he wondered if the ink would entice the flame. He let the flame linger, what parchment was this to withstand the candle's fiery embrace? Abruptly the flame reacted to the page, though not as Landau expected.
The letters on the page began to move, rotating and roaming in different directions, letters seeped through pages to appear on the other side. Landau was frightened, but began to see the letters organize themselves into sentences. When they finally stopped shifting a blinding light emanated from the pages, and the book filled the room with a tremendous flare, before Landau swiftly closed it, and flung it under the daybed.
Against the wall he collapsed with his candle clenched in hand, panting. There was no movement from his dad, nor any rumblings from upstairs, his mind alternated between mislaying the book, or meddling in its mystery. He craved for another look, and reached under the daybed to drag it forth, gently he opened it to reveal…nothing.
The pages were once again riddled with meaningless letters as before.
Landau soundlessly snuck away from his father to relocate to the dining area. Once more he lingered the candle aloft of the page, watching the flame flicker atop the candle in anticipation of a reaction.
"What are you doin'?!" a voice cried out.
Landau dropped the book in fright for a second time, turning to notice Elliott with candle in hand. "Is that Clancey's book?" he said in a loud whisper. "Are you mad, don't burn it." Landau grabbed Elliott and moved him to the kitchen, plucking the book from the ground.
"What are you doing down here?" said Landau.
"I just wanted some water before I go to bed, there's none upstairs, besides it's me house, what are you doin' here?" he replied.
Landau was reluctant to answer, weighing his trust in Elliott.
"Okay but you gotta promise to keep it a secret, I don't know what it is either."
Slowly he moved the candle to the pages of the book.
"You'll get into trouble for that," he said agitated.
"It reacts to fire I think," Landau showed him, motioning the candle across its parchment, Elliott was surprised it hadn't caught alight already.
"Strange that." Once again the letters shuffled about in countless directions, this time Landau was vigilant to witness the outcome. The characters unscrambled to form words, and not from a quill or marker of soot, instead each letter emitted a soft light from where it was scribed, as if etched in flame.
"I never heard about this from any tales of Clancey before," said Elliott. "What does it say?"
"I don't know, it's no language I know of that's for sure."
Elliott caressed the letters with his fingers, shining a dim light on his stubby tips, strangely warm to the touch. Landau continued turning pages, the journal entry he discovered earlier was now overshadowed by the luminous writing. A page soon dislodged and tore from the book entirely, and landed on the kitchen floor. Landau handed Elliott the book to examine the fallen page, noticeably thicker than the others. It unfolded, several times in fact, before Elliott and Landau both gripped either end to reveal a large blank parchment.
"Maybe the candle will work on this too," Elliott whispered, coequal to Landau's thoughts. He raised the candle, and both watched as the flame kissed the paper from underneath.
Gradually colors spilled across the paper, like running water they flowed in different angles, finding their place on the paper, within moments under the faint candlelight they could identify a land, replete with mountains and trees and lakes, surrounded largely by ocean. Both looked at each other in wonder of their discovery.
"What do you think it is?" Elliott asked.
"I think it's a map of Heldorn."
The tracing was congested, though the trees on the map swayed, and the waters rippled in the ocean, animated as though a strong wind forced their gentle movements. The boys were fascinated at the world within the map, for a moment lost in the secrecy of what they were doing.
"I never thought the land was so big," Elliott conceded. "What are these symbols here, can you read them?"
Across the map they could see six glowing emblems, spread across the land in a disorderly yet prominent manner, in the south among them was another emblem of a book, though not static like the other symbols, instead calmly it floated like a breadcrumb in water.
"I think this map is telling us where we are," said Landau, pointing to the book marker that hovered above the coastline. Their village was absent, yet the trenchant land and stream that flowed through it were equal to that of Porthos.
"Wow that's eerie," Elliott said. "Look it's near one of them fancy letters too, what do you think they mean?"
Intently Landau stared at the emblem, upon a neighboring mountain did it sit, a perfectly round circle with a cross on top, standing on its tip. His complete attention did it entrance, watching the fire glint within its elegant edges.
The candle soon blew out and the room returned to darkness, the colors on the map faded, and the last thing to disappear was the fiery emblem, from both the parchment and Landau's mind.
"Landau, we should tell someone about this," but Landau was quick to deny him the idea.
"We can't, we don't know what this is. It's best to put it back where I found it." He folded the map and placed it back inside the book.
"Remember this is a secret, you swear right?" Landau's voice as worried as it could be within a whisper. Elliott nodded before he poured his water and headed back upstairs, Landau snuck back into the living room and hid the book from sight.
Instead of finding rest he pondered long into the night why Clancey had never told anyone of such a magical item, wondering what would happen if Clancey caught him with it.
Chapter 4
INTO THE WOODS
A few weeks passed, the summer season was nearing its end and the weather already forewarned the fall season ahead. A cool sea breeze brushed across the village to Clancey's farm where Landau, the children and a host of villagers witnessed the arrival of horses into the newly built paddock, fully fenced with a brand new stable. The horses galloped freely, five in t
otal that ranged from some palfrey horses, a rouncey and most impressive a destrier, renowned for its capabilities in war. A few days earlier the children had the delight of pitching hay about the stable floor, a favorable thick layer they hoped the horses would appreciate. It was the last time they saw Clancey, absent for the last couple of days, and Landau was surprised to not see him here now.
The children stood on the fence, leaning over its sloped edges to entice the mares to come join them, only curious glances did the children receive before the horses acquainted themselves with their new home.
"I'm gonna call that one Scarlet," Jenny pointed at the brown steed with hints of red in its mane.
"How do you know it's a girl?" wondered Elliott.
"Because she's beautiful and she runs the fastest."
"They're probably all girls," Elliott wagered, old lady Maybird stood next to them and turned to Elliott bemused.
"It wouldn't be much of a breeding farm if they were all girls lad," she told him.
"What does that mean?" Mother Maybird was hesitant to reply.
"Maybe you should ask Marcus," talking of her husband beside her.
"I've got no interest in the goings on of this ‘ere farm," said Marcus. "Horses to a fisherman be about as useful as a pickaxe to a baker."
To the north of the field a small smithing area was under construction to which Marcus also took irk.
"Never thought I'd live to see an anvil in our borders. Clancey be daft if he thinks we'll put up with his hammerin', next we'll be havin' those wood lovers cuttin' down our trees."
"Save you having to travel to Tripple to repair your damaged ship parts," said Mother Maybird.
"Convenience be damned. Mark me words, these people here won't tolerate it," Marcus pouted before he simpered off to the tavern.
Landau vaguely recalled the Smiths of Tripple, only that the fire burned uncommonly hot and the noise of metal on metal was deafening, he wondered how amiably the village would welcome it.
The Secret of Azuron (The Sword Empire Book 1) Page 5
