Tournak chuckled, “He’s getting too old for roughing it.”
-
Stupid people, Twit thought. We had an acceptable conveyance. Some would say elegant, like me, but that wasn’t good enough. No, they had to trade it for this floating logjam.
-
Halfway between Heedra and Lake Pundar, a terrible commotion exploded in the forest along the river. A deer bounded down from the trees then disappeared over the bank’s ridge, followed by a dog glancing back, not forward. A black bear bolted from the trees after them. The frantic dog slid on the muddy bank, and the bear swiped at it. The great paw smacked the dog’s back leg knocking her sideways. She skidded on the mud to the water’s edge. The bear rose on its back legs, roared through its gaping mouth, and started to dive on the dog, when it, too, slid. In that instant, the hound dove into the river swimming for the voyagers’ boat. The soggy mutt struggled in the current, sweeping her downriver.
“The poor, half-starved dog,” Saxthor said. “She’s used the last of her energy. She’s too worn out to swim to us.”
“The bear’s staring, I think it’s going to go for the dog,” Tournak said. He went for his bow and arrows.
“Wait, Saxthor!” Bodrin said.
Saxthor dove in and swam to the frantic dog.
The current caught the struggling dog pulling her under in a swirling eddy.
“Can you grab her, Saxthor?” Bodrin yelled.
The current suddenly sped up where the channel narrowed. The dog’s head popped up, but the racing current carried her farther from Saxthor, who swam his fastest to get to her. Her head went under in the current again.
Saxthor foot caught on an underwater snag spinning him around. He freed his foot and looked to the dog. She was bobbing more and struggling less, even when her head did pop up among eddies in the frothy water.
When we had to escape as kids, I couldn’t be there for Battara in her old age, Saxthor thought. She was the best pup ever. I’m supposed to be here for this dog, and I won’t let her down. I can’t let her down. She looks to me with terror in her eyes. I won’t let her down.
Saxthor swam on, rocketed faster by the racing current that caught him, too, and shot him along toward the dog. The current relaxed farther downstream. It allowed the drowning beast to keep her head above water. She watched Saxthor gaining on her, but her eyes dulled, reflecting hopelessness.
Then the soggy creature paddled away from the current when Saxthor approached. Her ears shot up; her eyes brightened. Saxthor reached out and grabbed her skin at the back of her neck, pulling her to him.
She thrashed the water, trying to climb on her rescuer.
“Hold on, girl. I’ve got you now.”
The terrified dog stopped panting, looked Saxthor in the eye, and collapsed on him. He held her in one arm over his shoulder, swimming back to the boat drifting downriver for him.
“Don’t bring that mangy animal onboard,” Tournak said. “It can go find an owner elsewhere.”
“Give it up Tournak,” Bodrin said. “He remembers Battara. He won’t part with this emaciated thing.”
“We’re not equipped for a dog, Saxthor,” Tournak said, hands on his hips.
“Have you noticed he’s not listening,” Bodrin said.
Exasperated, Tournak held Saxthor by his arm while he pushed the struggling beast up to the boat.
“Take her Bodrin. She’s exhausted and distraught.”
“Kind of like us.” Bodrin chortled.
Tournak frowned. “I’ll agree with the last part.”
Water ran from the dog’s short fur, revealing her black-spotted, white coat. Bright brown eyes above her long muzzle looked at each man as she panted. Her two ears stood at attention with just the tips folding over, facing dripping Saxthor, whose side she wouldn’t leave.
“She’s soaking wet, aren’t you girl,” Saxthor said.
As if in response, and unaware of her bad manners, she shook from side to side, head to tail, splashing all three men. The dog stared at the bank for a moment, then looked up to Saxthor. He dropped to his knees, hugging his girl, who licked her rescuer.
-
Twit stared down at the soggy beast from his new perch atop the cabin. They’re graced with the company of this gorgeous bird, and they bring that... that thing onboard, thought Twit. It’s going to eat everything that can’t outrun it. There’s no accounting for human taste.
-
Bodrin pulled up the anchor and started poling the boat back upriver. “That’s that; you won’t part those two Tournak.”
“That scrawny beast is going to be first to the table, Bodrin,” Tournak said.
“Yeah, well, I’m bigger than she is.”
-
Twit looked down with disdain.
Why do people associate with such uncouth carnivores? Twit thought. People are so easy. Those hairy things know to play stupid to manipulate people. You’d think people would see through it, but they fall for it every time. No self-respecting bird would sink to such behavior for a handout and a pat on the head.
-
“What you going to call her, Saxthor?” Bodrin asked. “How about Duchess or Countess?”
“How about Delia?” Saxthor said. “I don’t want another courtly reminder, and she’s not exactly regal. Will Delia do, girl?”
The name stuck. She followed right behind Saxthor as he returned to poling the boat.
“She must’ve been someone’s pet once, but got lost, or they abandoned her,” Tournak said.
“Saxthor will take care of her now,” Bodrin shook his head amid the rhythmic pace of poling.
“Yes, I will.”
Delia licked Saxthor’s leg, then went and stood in the bow as a figurehead pointing the way, nose to the gentle wind. She kept checking back, verifying Saxthor was nearby. She’d bark once if she spotted anything she thought everyone should see. Creatures along the bank were favorites.
“Her vigilance will prove useful. She’ll make a nice addition to the crew,” Saxthor said.
“Another mouth to feed,” Tournak said.
Bodrin grinned. “I hope she likes fish.”
The companions moved on upriver past forests. Broad-footed cypress trees stood as sentinels at the water’s edge, their mossy veils waving in the gentle wind as if to entice mariners with their charms. Behind the cypress stood tall, green pines. Oak, chestnut, hickory, and willows splashed autumn colors through the forest. Broad sweeping limbs extended out, supporting wild grape and jasmine vines that rambled through them like playful children. Great hawks and owls watched the land for rodents, while speckled-white ospreys watched the water for fish from the best branches high above the river. Wild ducks migrating south flew along the river, stopping at adjacent bogs to snack on duckweed. Muskrats and other small rodents scurried along the banks when passing traffic disturbed them. Saxthor savored the old familiar landscapes and the musty river scent, while Delia watched for danger as they approached Heedra, where they stopped briefly for supplies.
The trip up to Lake Pundar was otherwise uneventful. They spent much of the travel time planning their way past the ever-watchful Favriana Fortress and onto Lake Pundar.
3: Lake Pundar Passage
About midmorning some days later, the party rounded a bend in the river to see the intimidating Favriana Fortress looming above the treetops. The forest greens and autumn colors obscured its massive base, but the keep’s dark-gray, granite battlements, and towers’ spires thrust up as if supporting the clouds. The great Nhy that bisected the Powterosian peninsula seemed a mere stream beneath the colossal structure.
“That great castilyernov was Neuyokkasin’s northernmost outpost before assimilating Talok-Lemnos. Your grandmother brought them into the kingdom when she married your grandfather,” Tournak said. He watched his stunned companions. “It’s meant to impress, a statement warning all not to challenge this kingdom. The castilyernov guards the Nhy’s source, where it flows from Lake Pundar. Do you re
member it from your studies?”
“Seeing it loom up in front of you is very different from seeing it as a dot on the court maps,” Saxthor said.
“All trade with the northern states has to pass under the fortress and by the town of Favriana snuggled at its base,” Tournak said. “The flow of agricultural wealth from the northern Vos Plain converges here. The consolidated bulk shipments then sail down the Nhy to Olnak and on to Tixos and the Powterosian Empire. Favriana's massive fortress proclaims the site’s strategic importance.”
“I thought Olnak’s Castilyernov Fortresska was impressive, but this is just as intimidating,” Bodrin said.
“Look out, Saxthor; the boat is drifting back down the river,” Tournak said.
Saxthor strained to steer the bow back upriver, and they sailed on toward Favriana.
“Nothing like a good first impression,” Tournak said. “Trying to avoid Favriana would only draw attention. By law, all traffic passing Favriana must pass through here for customs inspection. We’ll need to land and get supplies there, anyway.”
“We could tell the officials we’re from some obscure district west of Hyemka on our way to Hoya for a breeder bull,” Saxthor said. “With no cargo to tax, they shouldn’t detain us.”
When they tied up at the dock, a city official required they report to the customs house right away. This they did, and after a few short questions about their travel plans and clearance for the boat contents, the officials allowed them to travel within the city. Tournak gave them a quick tour and then selected a quiet inn on the outskirts of town for the night.
“We should avoid the inner city and the fortress,” Tournak said. “Someone from the court might recognize us. We’ll remain in the shadows and glean gossip about the state of the kingdom.”
That evening, Saxthor and Bodrin joined Tournak in the inn’s tavern room. Tournak shared ale with a merchant from Girdane, at the headwaters of the Nhy in Graushdem. The tipsy man smacked his mug on the table, sloshing ale as he began his tale.
“Prertsten’s agents are instigating unrest in the dukedoms of Hador and Heggolstockin. I know Dreaddrac’s king is behind Prertsten’s Prince Pindradese. Prertsten wouldn’t start trouble in the neighboring states without Dreaddrac’s approval and backing.”
The man swayed slightly, jerking back upright only to sway again. He glanced around to see who was listening.
“Prertsten has always been trouble,” someone said.
Others nodded.
The tipsy merchant spoke again. “You see, I normally search throughout the north for unusual merchandise for my shop in Girdane. This season, I’m reluctant to travel further than the mountains of southern Heggolstockin. Goods that used to come south and east from Prertsten, Heggolstockin, and Hador didn’t come this year.”
“Bad year for everyone,” Bodrin said.
The merchant nodded; others followed.
“Now, I’m forced to travel south in search of goods,” the merchant continued. “What else can I do? Not only have sources dried up, but also I don’t feel secure in shipping goods. The southern towns, which handle the shipping, are having financial troubles too. That much I’ve witnessed for myself.”
The man nodded his head, belched, and passed out on the tabletop, snoring within minutes. Two local farmers were grumbling about the strange creatures sighted on Lake Pundar’s northwest shore below the Pundar Hills. They speculated that unknown beasts from central Sengenwha’s Morass Mesas were coming east to the lake in search of food and water.
A soldier from the fortress above the city slapped his mug down and added his story.
“A patrol of soldiers checking the lake perimeters ran across just such a creature only last week. It’s been the barracks’ talk since. It was hushed up, but we soldiers know it’s true.”
In fact, all the talk in the inn was about the bizarre happenings and the region’s declining fortunes.
The troupe’s sleep was uneasy that night. Tournak woke two hours before dawn and saw a shadow on the room’s balcony. On the second floor, there was no good reason to be there at that hour. Tournak moved to the window and peeked through the curtain’s edge. The shadow was indeed a slight, translucent form, a searching wraith.
“What is it?” Saxthor asked half-awake.
Tournak slipped to the bed, cupping his hands over Saxthor’s mouth, then Bodrin’s. He nodded toward the window. After it passed by, Tournak whispered to the boys.
“The wraith’s vaporous form prevents it from doing bodily harm, but it brings death back from the grave.
“Is it looking for us?” Bodrin asked.
Tournak shrugged his shoulders. “We must leave at first light.”
They moved to the shadows in the corner behind the door and waited for dawn. As soon as it was light, they left without eating.
“You two go to the boat and stay there,” Tournak said. “I must buy supplies.
“Supplies now,” Bodrin said.
“Our objective is The Morass Mesas. Desert conditions require much different gear than that used on the river. I know you two wanted to have a better look at the city, but be it’s too dangerous to explore now. I’ll be back before midday, and we can sail north onto Lake Pundar. Stay out of trouble.”
Saxthor and Bodrin fiddled on the boat for a few minutes, each of them looking up at the city with increasing frequency.
“We really should explore the harbor this morning,” Saxthor said.
“Pity to waste the opportunity since we’re here,” Bodrin agreed.
In an instant, they’d tied up Delia to guard the boat and were moving with the crowd along the docks.
Artisans fashioned the products for the riverboat traffic. Some made ropes and sails; others dried or preserved foods. Barkers in front of small breweries called for travelers to sample their beers and ale. Potters fashioned great clay storage jars for transporting the region’s agricultural products. Clothing merchants flashed their brilliant textiles beside repair shops where the noise was loud but the workers silent. The city was abuzz with activity that morning. Fragrances from ripe fruits, musty yeast from the breweries and bakeries, frying fish, and other smells mingled among the stalls. Careless in taking it all in, Bodrin bumped into a stranger.
“Excuse me, Sir,” Bodrin said, turning to face the middle-aged man.
“You clumsy boy, watch out where you’re going.”
“The incident was nothing, Sir. I said I was sorry. There’s no need to be rude, and I’m not a boy.” Bodrin’s hand clutched the hilt of his sword.
The stranger snarled, “Your father should have taught you to watch where you’re going.”
Bodrin stepped closer.
“We’ve apologized, Sir. We meant no harm,” Saxthor said.
Saxthor tried to pull Bodrin back, but Bodrin jerked his shoulder free. He faced the man, stepping closer. Neither would back down. Before Saxthor could do anything to defuse the situation, the stranger threw a punch, knocking Bodrin down to the boardwalk. Sitting back, Bodrin rubbed his jaw, then jumped up and circled the man with hands rotating, itching for an opening to return the blow.
“No need for violence,” Saxthor said.
Saxthor knew Bodrin to be polite and respectful, not given to violence, but he wouldn’t allow anyone to strike him either. The punch left no retreat. Bodrin was going to get in a few licks, too. Saxthor stepped out of the way.
Both men circled, facing off, fists jabbing the air. Bodrin threw two quick punches in succession, but the stranger dodged left and right, avoiding both. The aggressor stepped up his bobbing and weaving. Agitated, Bodrin followed the movements faster, then red-faced, Bodrin threw another punch. The stranger again dodged. Bodrin brushed the back of his fist against the right side of his mouth and looked at his hand, no visible blood.
Passers-by gathered around the fight, pointing and whispering.
“So much for being inconspicuous,” Saxthor said.
Almost as the ruckus began, a patrol o
f soldiers appeared.
“Come with us to the castilyernov,” their corporal ordered. “The matter can be settled there without disturbing the commercial district.” A soldier motioned the spectators along, and the spokesman turned to the crowd. “The trouble’s over; move along, please.”
“That man started it,” Saxthor said.
“We’ll settle it at the castilyernov,” the corporal said.
A soldier stepped forward and took the combatant’s knives. Led by the patrol, Bodrin and the stranger, followed by Saxthor, climbed the stone stairs to the guardhouse, Favriana Fortress’ first checkpoint. In the ponderous entrance hall, a frustrated, gray-haired sergeant sat at the desk, fumbling with paperwork.
“Who are you people, and what’s your business in the city?” the sergeant snapped, looking up.
The stranger spoke first. “My name is Hendrel. I came recently to Favriana seeking work. I’ve had no luck finding employment thus far.
“Where you from?”
“I left Hador when unrest put me out of work there.”
“Trouble, huh?”
“Not me, I didn’t start anything there.”
“You’ll have to move on. We’ll not have vagrants stirring up trouble here,” the sergeant said. “With less traffic moving fewer goods all along the river, there’s little enough work for our own people. I’ll release you if you promise to leave the city today. If we catch you in another brawl, I’ll throw you in prison. You understand?”
“I understand, Sir.” Hendrel nodded and left the guardhouse.
Saxthor saw he waited around outside, possibly wanting to see what happened to Bodrin.
“And who would you be?” the sergeant asked. He’d stuck his hand in the crumpled papers to prevent losing his place in the confusion.
“Belbik Smock from a village outside of Hyemka,” Bodrin said.
Saxthor was relieved, remembering they’d all agreed not to use their real names in case searchers were about. They knew Memlatec’s warning about remaining undiscovered as long as possible was their best protection.
The Neuyokkasinian Arc of Empire Series: Books 1-3 Box Set High, Epic Fantasy on a Grand Dragon Scale! Kindle Edition Page 30
