by Jenner, M
Chapter Six: The Ferryboat Man
Bok looked across the cell to Joli. “I can’t believe that idiot fooled us like that. If it takes me the rest of my life to find Ty and gut him like a fish, I will wait.”
“You and me both. Where do you think he was heading?” Joli answered.
“No idea, but someone in the Orc’s Armpit will know. Trust me, a few copper pieces and tongues will wag,” Bok growled.
Just then a red-headed guard walked down the corridor and stopped at the bars to their cell, staring in at the two captives. “This Ty you speak of – was he short with a red top-knot haircut? Had a big mouth, a couple of friends with him, a dwarf and a human?”
Bok stood up. “Yeah, that’s him. Why you ask? Do you know him?”
“Let’s just say I met him once.” The guard’s mouth twisted as he remembering being tripped into manure in the marketplace, and the humiliating incident in the bathing room. “And I may be able to tell you where to find him. Are you serious about having your revenge?”
Bok placed his hands on the cell bars, staring at the guard. “I hate him. I won’t rest until I cut him open, spilling his guts onto his feet.”
The guard believed him. “Right, listen up. At nightfall tonight, I’ll come back and release you. Don’t worry about the consequences; I’ll sort that out,” he said menacingly. “He was heading south to the town of Praise, to cross with the ferryman there. That’s all I can help you with, but I’m sure a couple of resourceful characters such as yourselves can pick up his trail.” He sneered and spat on the floor; having to cooperate with such lowlifes left a bad taste in his mouth.
“I’m sure we will, never fear. What did he do to you?” Bok asked.
“Just kill him.” The guard turned and walked back up the stairs.
Joli turned to Bok. “Praise it is, then.”
“Yeah, and this time I won’t go easy on him. He won’t know what’s hit him,” Bok said coldly. They settled in on the rickety bed and waited for nightfall; for Bok, it couldn’t come soon enough.
The party was led through the town, past the massive fire-warning towers that sent up the smoke-alerts. All smaller towns in Bodisha had these towers, and had used them during the orc wars to alert other towns of an attack. The warning system was not used much in these days, but Moran, the Lord of Praise, had thought it necessary to keep them standing.
They were brought to a large barn at the far end of the town. Tables were being set up outside and the group was invited to sit. Townsfolk brought jugs of ale and water, along with wooden cups.
A lively atmosphere was building all around the town, and the comfortable hustle and bustle of normal street life had been replaced by a sense of urgency. People hurried through the streets carrying chairs and tables, musical instruments, crockery and tableware, and all the other items one would need to make ready for a street party.
Kern stopped a young girl hurrying past with a large bucket of red apples. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Lord Moran has ordered a celebration for your bravery, and because you killed the giant!” she exclaimed, seeming a bit starstruck. “Just wait here, sir, while we prepare the barn. It will be a feast to surpass all feasts,” the girl exclaimed, then skipped off.
The group exchanged glances, but made no comment. Instead they relaxed and drank the ale, and amused themselves watching as the townsfolk scurried around them, fetching and carrying. The occasional girl stopped to fling her arms around Kern’s neck, thanking him for his great service. Ty looked on in disgust.
They had just finished the first jug of ale when Solomon stood and stretched. “Well. Before we get too comfortable,” he said, “I’m just going to untie the horses and get them to a stable, fed and watered.”
“No need, take a look over there.” Galandrik pointed to a barn across the street where their horses were being led in.
“Hm. Even so, I’d better just pop across and make sure,” Solomon said, and walked off across the busy street.
Kern was looking at Galandrik’s wound. “What about your head? You need to get that looked at,” he said.
“Ah, it’s nothing, just a scratch. I’ve had much worse. Pass that ale again, would you?” Galandrik said,
They rested for a couple of hours, which passed quickly enough with the help of several jugs of ale. From time to time, one or another of them would get up and peer through a window into the barn at the preparations. Huge tables had been carried in, in sections, and now filled the most of the centre of the room. Dozens of small tables dotted the edges of the barn and chairs were being brought in by the townsfolk, along with every sort of food and drink imaginable. The townspeople ran back and forth, filling the central tables with platters of freshly cooked meats, fruit, bread, and vegetables. Jugs of ale, wine, and water filled the gaps. At the far end of the barn on a raised dais sat a smaller table with two throne-like chairs behind it.
“That girl was right; looks like the feast to end all feasts,” Nuran said, returning from a peek in at one of the windows.
“Yes, looks like we’re heroes!” Galandrik added cheerfully.
“Kern is,” Ty mumbled under his breath.
Solomon turned to Ty. “What was that?”
“Nothing, just talking to myself,” Ty snorted.
Solomon looked at Ty speculatively. But just then a young man came out of the barn and stood in front of them, looking a bit nervous. “We are ready for you now, sirs,” he said, bowing and gesturing with his free hand for them to enter the barn.
“At last! Come on, let’s eat,” Galandrik said, and walked into the barn.
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Nuran said, following the dwarf into the barn. As they crossed the threshold, a riotous chorus of cheers, clapping, and whistling broke out. A dignified-looking couple sat at the small table at the far end; given the way they were dressed, Kern thought, these must be the nobility of the town. The human male wore a massive golden necklace like a mayor’s chain of office, and the lady at his side wore a red dress fit for a queen, topped off with a tiara. Their applause was more decorous than most, but the relief and happiness on their faces was unmistakable.
Kern looked at Ty as they stood at their table, basking in the town’s gratitude before taking their seats. “Hm. I forgot to tell you, but well done today. Without that cart of yours I don’t think we could have beaten him,” he said under the noise of the applause.
“No problem – we’re even now,” Ty said shortly, walking past Kern and taking a seat next to Nuran.
The cheering, clapping, and foot-stomping continued for a few minutes, then the man at the head table stood up and raised his arms for attention. The barn went quiet, and he said into the hush, “That’s enough. I shall save the speech-making until we have all enjoyed the magnificent feast laid out for us.” He gestured to a group of men and women still making final adjustments to the groaning food-laden tables. Another round of applause, slightly less enthusiastic, broke out, and the speaker raised his voice to declare, “Let us eat and drink our fill!” The music started again, and with a loud cheer, everyone joined in the festivities,
Before long the entire group had filled their plates and were eating to their hearts’ content. The barn was full; even the outer tables were crammed with townsfolk. Outside was the same: If they couldn’t find room in the barn they ate outside, where music played and people danced. Inside, minstrels sang and played their instruments.
After the group had all eaten more than they should have and drunk their fill of mead and wine, the room fell quiet; even the areas outside grew still as the music stopped. The important-looking man at the head table rose once more; within seconds there was absolute silence both inside and out.
“Welcome all, old friends and new. For the benefit of our new friends who have joined us here today, I am Moran, cousin of King Moriak, and Keeper and Lord of Praise.” Moran looked around the barn with a regal gaze. “Today we were attacked by a monster, a monster that
has been terrorizing us for weeks. I have no doubt that without Kern and his brave party we would have lost many more people today before this evil creature had finished. They displayed remarkable courage and skill. Therefore, I want to offer Kern and his fellows a permanent job here in Praise, as my personal guard.”
A brief rustle filled the barn as the townsfolk gasped in surprise and shifted to whisper to their neighbours. All eyes were fixed on Kern and his party. Kern never took his eyes off Moran, and simply gave a slight smile. After a few heartbeats silence descended once more.
“Don’t answer just yet – have a night’s rest to sleep on it. I’m sure you will think more clearly after a good night’s slumber. But know this: Even if you do not wish to stay with us, you will always be welcome here, all of you, and will have the freedom of the town and all that goes with that.”
Moran picked up his golden goblet. “Friends, new and old, join me now in a toast to our new heroes. Drink, for they have saved this town from destruction.” Moran raised his goblet and shouted, “Heroes!”
Everyone in the barn raised their drinking cups, goblets, and glasses; the masses outside joined in the celebrations and cheers as well. “Heroes! Heroes!”
Moran took his seat, holding his wife’s hand on top of the table as the music and hubbub resumed. Kern looked in Moran’s direction until he caught the Keeper’s eye, then nodded. Moran nodded back, lifted his goblet and smiled.
The celebrations went on deep into the night, but not for Kern and his company. They were escorted to an inn – at no expense to them, of course. Their horses had been tended to, baths sat ready for the group to soak their aching limbs, and a nurse was sent to look at Galandrik’s head and all the others’ bumps and bruises.
Soon all the party were fast asleep, aside from Ty; he had crawled under his bed, a habit he’d had for many years. As a young man in Phebon, he’d wound up under his bed instead of in it after a night of drunken carousing. When the man who’d been buying the drinks snuck into Ty’s room with a blade and began slashing at the rumpled covers and pillows, Ty had been able to reach out and slice his would-be murderer’s hamstrings. Even a man’s closest friends, it seemed, could be hiding secret motives, and Ty considered an uncomfortable night’s sleep a fair trade in exchange for the element of surprise.
This night, however, it was more than physical discomfort keeping him awake. The cold wooden floorboards creaked beneath him as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the Giant’s medallion. It seemed to shimmer from gold to silver, though maybe that was just the candlelight. He placed the medallion in his secret pocket, along with the gold coins stolen from the farmer. One medallion for me, while Kern gets the keys to the town, he thought; typical. Ty slowly drifted off to sleep.
Kern swung his sword in a wild arc in front of him, “Come out and fight me, you little whore!” He spun around, his sword again circling and slicing through the air. “Show yourself, you bastard,” he cried as he swung his sword wildly, turning round and round like a blind man.
Ty woke with a jolt; banging his head on the wooden slats under the bed. With a wince he rolled out, crossing the room to sit in the chair next to the window. Rubbing his head, he wondered what the dream might have meant.
He stood up and stretched, trying to work out how long he had been asleep. He looked out the window and down into the street. A few people dawdled and wobbled home; he could still hear music playing from the barn. I couldn’t have been asleep for long, he thought as he tore off a piece of his bedroll and wrapped it around his face, leaving only his eyes showing.
Reaching into his pack, he pulled out a pair of gloves – not from a set of armour, but a lightweight leather pair, like those used by acrobats and climbers. Pulling a coil of rope from the bottom of his pack and draping it over his shoulder, he cautiously opened his window and climbed out onto the windowsill. He looked around at the other windows to make sure no one was watching.
Looking up, he saw the edge of the roof; with a quick spring he grabbed it and pulled himself up. Squatting down, he looked into the street and across to the other houses. When he felt sure he was unobserved, he scurried up and over the rooftop. Most of the houses were connected, and where they weren’t, it was just a jump down onto a wall, then across and up.
After scrambling across a dozen roofs he found a spot to sit and stared down at the quiet town. The moonlight lit up the buildings well. Ty had always liked to sit on rooftops; he knew nobody would disturb him there and it kept his climbing skills fresh. He’d lost count of all the nights he’d spent on rooftops in Phebon – mostly because he was hiding, but sometimes just to sit and think, like tonight.
The party was awakened in the morning and asked to join Moran for council after breakfast. Solomon and Ty restocked their supplies and readied the saddlebags. Soon everything was ready for their departure. They ate breakfast in the inn, then followed a town guard across the street to Moran’s house. They were led to his study, where they stood in a line in front of his desk to wait for Moran’s arrival. Just as Ty began to shift and fidget, Moran joined them.
“Good morning. I hope you all slept well.”
“We did, and thank you for your hospitality, Lord Moran,” Kern answered.
“Say no more of it. Considering what you did for us, it was nothing,” Moran replied. “Did you think about my offer?”
It was an uncomfortable few minutes while Kern explained the group’s mission from King Moriak. Kern’s manner was eloquent and courtly as he explained that even though Moran’s offer was tempting, they were pledged to find the King’s missing gold.
After an awkward silence, Moran nodded his acceptance of their decision, then asked if they needed anything else. Their only request was for a horse for Nuran.
Moran bid them all farewell and thanked them again; soon they were mounting up. The party rode out of the town’s southern gate, followed by scores of townsfolk who had been waiting to see them off. As they left the town, the people cheered and shouted their goodbyes. After twenty minutes the town was far behind them, and they rode southwest towards the river crossing called the Ferryman.
After a few uneventful hours they eventually reached a log cabin. They didn’t see anyone outside the structure, but smoke curled up from the chimney. A ferryboat jetty was built out into the river. They could see the ferry heading to the other side, about halfway across.
“Typical; just missed it,” Ty huffed.
“It’ll be back in an hour,” Nuran soothed.
“More like three hours! Look how slow he’s going,” Galandrik argued.
“He’s pulling it by hand!” Kern had noticed the rope that was tied around a massive wheel, stretching into the water and across the river.
“It’s a five-hour round trip; he does it twice a day, and when he returns he will not be going back until dawn,” said a woman’s voice, coming from the open window of the log cabin. They whirled around, startled, and saw a human woman with thick golden hair tied back in a long, wavy ponytail. A few strands formed ringlets that she had tucked behind her ears.
“She is gorgeous,” Nuran whispered under his breath.
“You can say that again,” Kern added quietly.
“We have rooms to rent out the back, and there is food in the pot if you have the silver to pay for it. Or, you can sit your mounts until dawn. The choice is yours,” the woman offered, along with a smile to melt a man’s heart. Before anyone had a chance to answer, she pulled the window shut.
“I suppose we might as well go in; we haven’t got much choice,” Solomon stated.
The entire party dismounted, and the front door of the cabin opened and the woman stepped into the sunlight. She wore tight leather leggings paired with leather boots; leaves were embroidered in golden thread down the sleeves of her white blouse, and on the edges of her collars and cuffs was a golden weave. Her blouse was tucked in, showing her slender figure. She stood over six feet tall, and from her belt hung a long hunting knife. Her feat
ures had a slightly elven cast, but overall she appeared human. The men stared as if she was the first woman they had ever seen.
“We have a little barn out back. Your horses will be well looked after. My brother Jay is already there.”
“Thank you, that would be wonderful,” Solomon said, bowing to the woman.
“You’re welcome. And you can pay my brother for the horses’ keep,” she added before she disappeared through the doorway, smiling.
Soon Flight, Preacher, Trophy, and Fire, as well as Nuran’s new mount, Thunder, were all unsaddled and in the shelter of the barn, and were being fed well. As Jay began brushing down the first of the horses, Solomon counted out the payment, then picked up a brush to help.
Jay was of slender build, like his sister, with short spiky golden hair; he stood a good five feet tall even though he seemed barely ten years old. His features also seemed almost elven, but Solomon noticed that the boy’s ears were definitely human.
Kern knocked on the front door. “Come in,” they heard the woman inside answer. Kern grabbed the handle and pushed; the door was heavy and very well-made. As they entered the room they saw a massive table with eight chairs surrounding it, and at the far end of the room was a huge open fire, with flames crackling, leaping and licking at the air. Around the fire sat large comfortable-looking leather chairs. The room was very homey and the kitchen area was full of pots, pans, vegetables, hanging rabbits, and herbs and spices. The woman turned to the group and said, “You can place all your weapons on that table next to the door; you won’t need them in here. My name is Annabella, but you can call me Bell.” She turned back around and carried on dicing onions. “Make yourselves comfortable,” she added.
After Kern had introduced everyone, Nuran, Galandrik, and Ty settled into the chairs near the open fire.
