Finishing the first row, he took a second to gaze at the barn. It was in a sad shape. The blaze had already begun to subside, but the roof had collapsed already. The sides were falling apart and the frame was now visible. It was quite a sad sight after all the long years it stood. He turned his attention away from the barn and back onto the field.
As he began planting this row, Landon thought he felt a few more drops on his heads. He quickly bored and planted. He knew he might not have time to plant all of them, but he was determined to do as much as he could. Small sporadic drops continued to fall as Landon finished the second row. He turned to begin the third row when a loud thunderclap made Landon jumped. The thunderclap resembled the sound of a dam breaking for as soon as it was over the clouds released their hold on the water in the sky. Landon’s heart sank. His work was about to be ruined, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Immediately, a thought burst into his mind. He knew he wouldn’t be able to plant the entire field but he remembered a method of planting used long ago. It was called sowing. Landon hoped that if he could broadcast enough seed, the water might flood the field and bury it in the earth. It was all he had left. He grabbed large handfuls of seed and scattered them across the field letting them fall into the mud that was forming from the flood from the sky. He ran around the field wildly throwing seeds upon the ground as the rain drenched him and the ground. Landon quickly prayed again that something would come of this wild sowing. Within ten minutes the entire field was covered with seeds and a slight flood was beginning to form on the surface. The barn had also been reduced to a smoldering shell.
Landon looked around him trying to analyze the moment and his next actions. It did not take long for him to decide for another loud thunderclap shook the farm as a lightning bolt tore across the sky and slammed into the hut engulfing it in flame. The rain was beginning to let up, and the fire quickly spread. Landon knew he had only minutes to save his effects. He raced into the hut to salvage what items he could. He first searched his room to gather clothes and his sword. Next, he ran into the main room to find a sack and fill it with food, money, and any other useful items he could find. Before leaving the house, he took one last look around to make sure he had everything of importance then raced out of the house just as the roof over the main room collapsed.
Landon stood in the middle of the road between the hut and the field throwing his eyes between the flooded field and the ruined barn. Despair filled his heart. He turned around and watched the only home he had ever known burn to the ground. He raised his arms in the air as if in surrender. The devastation from the lightning had left him homeless. Animals ran wildly over the open grassland feeling free from their service. All Landon felt was loneliness and emptiness. He looked down at his hands, and realized that all he owned was there. The sight of the ring on his hand reminded him of the father he never knew, the sad lonely life he had lived, and he realized he had nowhere to go. He fell to his knees and began to weep from the depths of his soul.
It took nearly another ten minutes for Landon to collect himself enough to clear his mind. The sun was already beginning to shine through a few of the clouds creating beams of golden light. An orange glow emanated from behind the clouds indicating the sunrise. The rain lessened its beat upon the earth. Standing up, Landon knew that what remained of the farm was not enough to live off of. He would need a lot of assistance from Lord Malchus, but since Mordecai was not around to experience the devastation, Landon felt it should be Mordecai’s responsibility. He had done his part by getting it ready enough to sow in the emergency of the morning, but he resented his uncle for making him do it alone.
He knew the farm was no place for him anymore. He looked down at his ring again. He had a question that needed to be answered, and, now that he was homeless, he saw this as the perfect opportunity to seek it out. He decided he would leave as soon as he could be ready and seek out Daxis. He retrieved his sword from the ground and strapped it to his side. Next, he reached deep into the rucksack and pulled out the letter from Godfrey. He tucked it into his tunic in case Daxis would want to see it as proof Godfrey sent him. He found Aquila and strapped the saddle onto her. He threw the sack with all of his belongings around it and mounted her.
Roughly an hour after the sky opened up, Landon was making his way once more on Aquila towards Camsbury. As he passed the borders of his home, he paused to take one long glance at the world he had known. He gazed at the near ruinous effect the fire had on the barn. The hut was in no better shape. Both would definitely need to be rebuilt, but neither Landon nor Mordecai had the resources to do it. He had a strange feeling it would be the last time he would see it. He shook his head, turned to the road ahead, and spurred Aquila on.
The four hours to Camsbury passed by quicker than expected. Landon stopped only briefly at Bodam to allow Aquila a drink but desired not to linger. The place felt eerie now. No longer peaceful. After only a few minutes, he carried on towards the city arriving moments after the gates were opened.
Riding into the city, it occurred to him that he had no clue where to begin to look for Daxis. He stopped at the gate to inquire of the guards posted there.
“Good morrow. By any chance, would either of you know where I may find a man named Daxis?”
The first guard shrugged his shoulders and laughed, “Does anyone know? Daxis is a myth. Parents have been threatening to send their disobedient children to Daxis for years. Of course, children behave because no one wants to be taken into the wild to disappear and become forgotten.”
The second guard replied to the first, “Daxis is no myth, Bartholomew. My cousin claimed to have found Daxis a few years back and was planning a quest with him, but shortly after, he disappeared. No one has seen him since.”
“Who? Bayard? Puh. . . that man has always been a fool. Good riddance to him.”
“You dare insult my family?” the second guard said putting his hand to his sword.
“Aye, I dare!” the first guard returned. Attempting to keep the entire town from knowing too much about his business, Landon broke in to end the dispute.
“Gentlemen, thank you for your service, you have been most… informative! Please, forget I mentioned anything.”
There he left the two men arguing. Receiving no luck there, he thought to perhaps try Rowan’s Tavern. There were bound to be people gathered about who would know a thing or two about his whereabouts. Surely Godfrey would not send him chasing after a myth. Trotting up to the tavern he saw few people about the city. This struck Landon as odd, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He tied the horse to a post then entered the establishment.
The first thing Landon noticed was the musty smell from within as though the inhabitants hadn’t cleaned for weeks. Looking about him were many people carrying about their own business sipping an amber colored liquid from tankards set before them. The ceiling was quite low but the room extended far into the wooden building. Directly in front of the door was a long bar with barrels for stools. Along the right side of the tavern were many wooden tables and chairs set up to accommodate up to sixty guests. A small man with wispy grey hair and a large belly stood behind the bar. Landon walked up to him and sat down on the stool opposite the man.
“Landon. I have not seen you in quite some time. Are you sure you are old enough to be in here?” He laughed as he spoke.
“Rowan, it is pleasurable to see you again,” Landon said, though he was only being polite. In truth, he did not like Rowan. He had a constant dependency to handle situations with official guards. It was considered a very respectful position to own a tavern because those that did were known for their ferocity and ability to settle disputes before they happened. Rowan did not have this attribute. Being stocky had disserved him in this business because no one respected him. Many fights erupted within the confines of his establishment.
“Perhaps my eyes are deceiving me but that weapon on your hip gives you the appearance of a man in the service of the state.”
“Nay, I am not. But I have come for information. Do you know of a man named Daxis?” Suddenly, the barkeep’s face darkened and he leaned in close enough for Landon to hear at a whisper. “The name of Daxis is dangerous. It is not permitted in my establishment!”
“I do apologize, but I have been sent to find him.”
“He is either legend or demon. Either way, whatever business you have with him, I advise you to take it somewhere else.”
“There is no one else. I must speak with him.”
“Then, I have no information for you,” he said curtly and turned to speak with another guest.
Landon sat stunned. It had never occurred to him that he would encounter so much resistance to meeting this Daxis. So far everyone has claimed he does not exist. Why would Godfrey send me to find someone who is not real? He wondered. He became more intrigued at every turn. He looked around the room to see who else might have information for him, but to his dismay, he could not decide who to ask. There was an old gentlemen in the very back who sat alone eating many dishes of food. He wore fine clothing and was twice the size of any man. He was finishing off his third glass of ale. There was also a group of people at a table in a closer corner. They were all obviously intoxicated and laughed uproariously. Neither option seemed plausible. As he perused the bar, an older gentleman sat down beside him. He wore a long brown waistcoat that swept down to the floor. His hands were covered with leather gloves that looked as though they had seen too many winters. His hair was thin with a slight hint of gray in it. He sat waiting patiently for Rowan to finish his conversation. It took him a while but finally Rowan approached him.
“What’ll it be?” he asked.
“Just a pint, thank you,” the man said eagerly. Rowan grabbed a tankard from under the counter and dipped it in a large barrel behind him. Lifting the cup, some of the amber liquid spilled to the floor. He set it down before the man. The stranger reached into his coat and slid a golden crown across the counter. As he did so, Landon noticed the man carried a great sword at his side concealed by the coat. He took a long draught from his drink then turned to Landon.
“What brings you to these parts?” he inquired.
“My business is my own,” Landon said dryly. He sensed the stranger was not to be trifled with but did not wish to engage in conversation. He was learning be discrete about this Daxis character. He hoped to avoid an argument.
“It seems to me you are looking for someone, eh?” the stranger continued.
“Look, I don’t want any trouble.”
“With that kind of sword, I do not doubt it. That is made from Taafeite, I would guess. Only the bravest warriors dare travel to Seyleon to recover that kind of a gem. And only a handful of smiths know how to craft it into a weapon. If I did not know better, I would say you are a warrior of renown.”
“I’m none either and would appreciate you keeping your voice down. I would rather keep a low profile.”
“A low profile!” the man exclaimed so the entire tavern could hear. Everyone stopped what they were doing to pay attention to the two of them. Landon felt his face grow hot with anger.
“Look, sir. I don’t appreciate you making me the center of attention, and I certainly don’t appreciate you interfering in my business. Good day,” and with that, Landon turned to leave. But the man grasped a hold of his arm with a grip of steel.
“Beware of those whom you trust,” the man said releasing his grip. Landon quickly nodded then strode out into the sunlight. Mounting his horse Landon was uncertain of what to do next. Looking around he noticed the towering arm of the church in front of him. He thought perhaps it might be a good place to search next. Everyone living within the city was mandated to attend service weekly which meant that if Daxis did in fact live here, the priest would surely know.
He trotted over to the cathedral which loomed in the midst of the city. Its shadow cast a strange darkness upon itself as the sun rose directly above it. He dismounted Aquila and tied her up in front of its walls. Landon had never been inside the cathedral. Many times he had ridden by, but never had he actually set foot inside of it; the mandate of the city did not apply to him since he lived so far from town. He stood in front of the large steel doors gazing up at the behemoth of a building. At its peak, Landon could make out a circular stained glass structure which bent into a sharp point. The top formed a pyramid with each side containing a circular structure. Sweeping down the flanks of the building were many gargoyles and intricate designs no doubt which held significant meaning but escaped Landon. The base of the structure was much wider and contained two enormous doors with strange symbols of conjoined triangles and circles etched into them.
He left Aquila and pushed his way through the strangely heavy doors. Entering the dark room, his eyes took a moment to adjust. Inside were many benches where a few people sat kneeling quietly and what Landon assumed was praying. At the front was a man standing with his head bowed and covered in a hood. As he approached, the man turned towards him. He removed the hood from his head and spoke in a quiet voice.
“Afternoon young man, how can I be of service to you?” Unfamiliar with the customs of the church, Landon bowed which caused the man to chuckle. “There is no need of that, but I do appreciate it.” Raising himself Landon said, “I come in search of answers, friar.”
“Indeed. Follow me to my chamber where we may speak more privately.” Saying thus, he turned and walked towards the far wall. Pushing along the wall, a small door appeared through which the robed friar slipped leaving it slightly ajar. Landon quickly strode through the door and closed it behind him. On the other side of the door was a narrow stone passageway lined with torches leading to a small room tucked discretely behind the sanctuary. The friar found a seat to sit in and beckoned Landon to sit beside him. Obligingly, Landon did so.
“Now, what sort of answers do you seek?”
“I need to know where a man named Daxis lives, if he even exists.”
“May I ask for what purpose? Daxis is a very dangerous individual; most who encounter him do so at their own peril.”
So he does exist! Landon thought. “So I have been told, and the purpose is my own, sir,” Landon added so as not to upset the monk.
“Very well, if you will not divulge your secrets, I fear I can not divulge mine,” said the friar rising from his seat.
Landon sighed heavily. “Is what I say privileged?”
Sitting back down the monk replied, “Indeed it is.”
“Then I suppose I should start at the beginning.” Landon hesitated for a moment unsure if he could completely trust this priest. The church was said to be in bed with the Lords. He decided he had few options. “Several days ago my uncle and I rode into town to buy a harness…”
Landon proceeded to relate the events of the past few days culminating in his search for Daxis. He was careful not to share names of others in the fear that this monk was less than truthful. He had heard many stories from his uncle concerning the dishonesty of the church. Meanwhile the friar sat quietly intently listening to every word. Occasionally he would glance down at the ring upon Landon’s left hand with a look of great interest. His brow would slowly grow dark then lighten when it was obvious Landon was omitting some interesting details. Landon finished his tale and sat quietly waiting for the response from the friar.
“What is the name of this friend of yours who sent you to look for Daxis? It seems you have purposefully left that detail out.” Landon sat silent unsure of how to respond.
“If you are unwilling to share everything, then I cannot help.” Landon remained silent still unconvinced he could trust the priest.
“I can only assume you mean Godfrey as he is the only smith in town,” the priest encouraged. Recognizing that he had not been as deceiving as he had hoped, Landon gave in.
“You assume correctly.”
“Then surely you must show me proof of this letter before I dare to reveal the location of Daxis.”
Unsure of
how to proceed, Landon felt that this man was the closest he was going to get in town of finding this Daxis, so he relented. He reached into his tunic and retrieved the letter. Slowly he held it out to the monk who took it from him. He quickly unfolded the paper and read its contents. He took a long look at the note before returning it to Landon. He sat for a long while staring at him. Finally, he said, “It appears you have not been lying after all. I believe it is now time to take you to Daxis.” So saying, he rose from his seat, threw off his robe, and marched out of the room into the stone passageway. Landon followed hurriedly. At the end of the hall where the door was, he stopped, but this time instead of opening the door leading to the sanctuary, he opened one in the floor that revealed steps leading down into darkness. “This way,” he said.
Down the steps the friar led the way lighting torches as he went. Following, Landon noticed that cobwebs hung all around as if this place hadn’t been used in centuries. At the base of the stairs water collected into a puddle while mold began to grow in the center of it. Landon stepped around the puddle and made an abrupt right into a long stone corridor. The friar was maintaining a fast pace and Landon was breathing heavily trying to keep up. Ahead the monk disappeared around a corner, and Landon could hear a loud sound of metal scraping against stone. He also saw a beam of light illuminating the short passageway. Landon hurried into a jog and turned left around the same corner around which the monk had disappeared. The light was so radiant it blinded him for a brief minute, but he kept moving forward. Finally, he stepped out into the light outside and saw before him a small building hidden in the midst of the cathedral. The only way into the courtyard was through the secret tunnel.
“Look at this place,” Landon said trying to catch his breath.
“We are at Daxis’ house.”
“He lives here?” he said pointing to the dilapidated roof of the house.
“Aye, few know the way. Shall we?” he asked motioning Landon towards the door.
The Awakening (The Stones of Revenge) Page 8
