The Chronicles of Outsider: Humble Beginnings

by Justin Wayne

  Chapter Thirteen: White Night

  Dradewen lingered by the window, watching the icy fingers of winter intertwine around the town of Delvin with an unbreakable grip. Icicles hung from the frame like bars reminding how much he felt like a prisoner stuck within the tower, unable to leave. His father didn’t deal with the waiting as well and paced about in circles for so long he thought he would soon be walking on the bottom floor.

  “When this storm let’s up, I will thrash that little worm within an inch of his life and then make him watch as that dagger he stole is slowly slid into his gut!” Dunawar roared and banged his fist on the nearby table causing it to shudder and spill the mugs of ale upon it. “Welter, get in here and clean this up!”

  Without a second’s hesitation the servant appeared through the door with a rag and wiped it up then disappeared with the mugs a moment later.

  “But how are we going to find him?” Dradewen still stared out the window, wiping away the fog from his breath every so often. “This blizzard will have obliterated any traces of his trail.”

  The Warrior chief shook his head angrily. “I am fully aware of this, Dradewen. You would do well not to question my intelligence. Especially on such obvious matters.” his voice murmured, more dangerous than when he was yelling. “We will find him, have no doubt. Valhus will guide my axe straight to his heart.”

  Welter returned then and sat down a platter of freshly roasted mutton and buttered rolls alongside new mugs of ale. He vanished before either took notice of him.

  The Warrior chief thrust his knife into the roast and skipped the plate altogether, stuffing the succulent beef into his maw. Chunks of gristle spilled down his chin as he spoke with his mouth full. “How far could he have gotten in such weather? Only a fool would have tried to set out far. He’s probably slipped back into town or just outside in a village.”

  Dradewen merely shrugged. Honestly, he cared not to punish the man. Even with what little of the battle he was able to see between the two hooded men he could note the man’s combat prowess. He wanted to meet the man, to speak to a great warrior from such a different life and test his mettle against such a foe.

  “And if he isn’t?”

  Dunawar looked up confused, his mind occupied by the food. “Isn’t wha’?”

  “If he isn’t nearby? Say he managed to find a traveler with a wagon pulled by steeds fast enough to get to the pass?” Dradewen prompted. “What then?”

  “Then I will return home empty handed and be made a fool by a single man.” He took another bite. “And you know I won’t let that happen.”

  Dradewen went silent then as he watched the weather turn the sunless black gray until he was watching a white night glisten from the highest view in town. If anyone unfortunate enough to be outside at that moment had looked up at the guard tower they would have seen only a pair of dark eyes staring back through the snow drifting to the ground.

  He remained stationary as the door creaked open behind him. Welter stepped inside, his eyes glued to the floor, arms behind his back. “Pardon the intrusion, Chief Dunawar, but your presence has been requested.”

  The chief looked up from his gorging. Food smeared his cheeks and chin and grease ran from his fingertips to his elbows. “Who?” he demanded. If there was one thing he hated more than being robbed, it was being interrupted.

  “Apologies sir, I know not. He didn’t say.”

  Dradewen stiffened as he could sense his father’s temper beginning to rise. He could picture the blood rising in his face until he looked like a cherry ready to pop, his arms beginning to swell with veins and knuckles white with the strain in which they gripped whatever was in his hand.

  The rattle of a bent fork clattered on the ground.

  “And you had the audacity to bring such a matter to my attention? I care not for strangers too insignificant not to have a title or name worth announcing. Tell him to be gone before my axe welcomes him!” he roared and jumped up so fast his chair fell backwards.

  Welter scrambled for the door, tripping on the way through. The room fell into an awkward hush as they listened to the little man stumble through the next room. The low murmur of voices dulled by stone walls reverberated deeply.

  The young Warrior shut his eyes and laid his head against the ice cold glass. His mind ventured leagues away across the plains to a veranda of hills plastered white with scintillating frost. Deer ran free and darted away at his thunderous approach, hammer blasting apart tree and stone alike that stood in his wake until he came face to face with a mountain, its immense size towering into the skies so high he couldn’t see the peaks. He roared to Valhus and brought his warhammer down against the base with a cry that shook leaves from trees, a shower or granite raining on him as the mountain shattered into millions of millions pieces in a soundless explosion of force.

  He turned away resignedly as the door opened again.

  “The name is Blaine of Duskenbaijan, bounty hunter.” the voice cooed alluringly, a smooth tone that dripped with a sense of entitlement.

  A voice that didn’t belong to Welter.

  Dradewen opened his eyes and felt them reach his forehead as a dark elf stood at the door, black leather armor beneath a purple cloak. The face seemed set in a permanent sneer with rat-like features and beady black eyes. He realized this was the one who disappeared into the blackness before and eyed his claymore across the room.

  But the dark elf was watching the chief eat with such a ravenous manner he hadn’t even looked up or noticed the different voice. Blaine crossed his arms and leaned against the wall patiently. He placed a finger to his lips with a pointed look at Dradewen and resumed waiting.

  His façade of manners quickly faded.

  “Has he always been like this? Or has he just gotten fat and daft with old age?”

  Dunawar jumped at that and took an involuntary step backward when he saw the stranger before him.

  “How dare you come here, fiend!” he bellowed and reached for his axe. A dirk whistled through the air and stuck in the mortar between the bricks, an inch from his outstretched fingers.

  “Not a good idea, oaf.” he spat. “Now back away from it lest you prefer a blade in your eye.”

  Dunawar remained where he was unflinchingly as Blaine stared at him. “You gonna stare at me all day or are you gonna speak you, evil little disgrace?”

  The knife was spinning through the air not a second later and was caught in the Warrior’s hand the next.

  The two fighters remained still, both gauging the other’s reaction.

  “Listen, you--” Dradewen began.

  “My business is not with you, boy. But your father.” Blaine hissed. “You seek the hobbit and his captor do you not?”

  The Warrior chief strode forward; chin raised high and chest thrust out. “Perhaps. What concern is it of yours?”

  Blaine smiled wickedly. “I can help you find him. Word has reached me that a tribe of orcs, thirty strong, are making their way to the mountain pass as we speak.”

  The Warriors exchanged an incredulous look.

  “But that storm. It’s death raining from the sky. No orc would willingly go through such a trial.”

  “And to what end?” Dradewen chimed in.

  Blaine smiled and pulled up a chair. Using his dagger he speared himself a slice of mutton and took small bites of it. “This is good.” he mused. “Definitely high quality stuff.”

  Dunawar threw the dirk into the table with a thunk! “Enough games, sneak thief! What do you want? Speak quickly for my patience wears thin.”

  Blaine smiled and laughed. Dradewen imagined someone in pain at the wheezing sound. “Very well.” He took one last bite and slid his chair back with a loud grating then leaned back with his feet on the table. His arms folded behind his head. “The man you seek. His name is Outsider, and he and I have a…strenuous. Relationship. You see, I have fought with him several times as we grew up and marked him my enemy with a scar across his face in exchange for him kill
ing my brother.”

  At this Dradewen’s eyes found his father’s as big around as saucers.

  “You grew up together?”

  Blaine nodded.

  “He is like you?”

  “Well of course he is a bounty hunter, you knew that.” he teased.

  Dunawar’s scowl lined his face with wrinkles. “He is a dark elf?”

  Blaine put on a mask of mock confusion. “Oh, that’s what you meant.” He shook his head. “Silly me. Yes, he is a dark elf; well half to be exact…And one to be reckoned with. He has been trained for years in the art of combat.

  “Nearly as long as you’ve been alive, boy.” he added, looking into Dradewen’s young face. “He is taking the little thief to Cain Sander, where a bounty of a thousand gold cents has been placed on his head.”

  Dunawar resumed his seat, axe in hand, and pushed his plate aside. “Welter, bring me some parchment and ink!”

  Blain sucked air in between his teeth. “Oh, about that. It pains me terribly to tell you this, but he won’t be serving you anymore. Or anyone for that matter.” He picked a piece of mutton from his teeth with his knife absentmindedly.

  “Dradewen, fetch it for me.” Dunawar ordered with a wave of his hand.

  He did as he was told and left the room to get the supplies. As soon as he left the room, Blaine set his feet down and strode across the room then shut the door.

  “This matter is a private one I think you’ll find.” he smirked.

  Dunawar stared at him resolutely and shrugged.

  Dradewen returned and found the door locked. He knocked on it and his father replied for him to wait.

  His first instinct was to bust it down with a single kick, but he steadied himself. Bursting in when he wasn’t wanted was something he had been severely punished for too many times as a child to do again. He held his ear to the door but heard only silence; not even the murmur of voices as before. Then he noticed the door was warm to the touch.

  “Fire?” He dropped to the floor flat on his belly; his thick arms of corded muscle lowering him down easily. But he saw no light from beneath the door.

  In fact, he didn’t see anything. It was pure darkness within the room; something he could think of no reason to justify. He leapt to his feet and sent the door clear off its hinges with a single kick.

  Within the room sat his father and Blaine, across the table from one another, staring up at him with the same blank stare of surprise. The dark elf quickly composed himself, and rolled up a length of parchment then tucked it within his cloak. He pushed his chair out and stood.

  “Glad we got that settled. A pleasure doing business with you.”

  And he strode out of the room after releasing his secrecy spell; a wicked smile growing across his face as he heard the hollering and commotion between the Warriors behind him.