by B K Suitter
“I am sorry for your loss, Aliha,” said an old man.
She didn’t recognize the voice, and when she turned around, she didn’t know the face. He was an old man with thick white hair that grew to shoulder length. His dark brown eyes and strong jaw suggested he was younger than he appeared, but deep wrinkles on his face and hands argued that point. He wore a heavy-looking grey robe that hung down to the old sandals on his feet, and he carried a long wooden staff that he leaned on in a tired manner.
“Thank you,” Aliha replied as she noticed a dark form standing at the edge of the cemetery grounds. He had the look of a hardened warrior and carried two short swords, one on each hip, their hilts standing out from the decorated scabbards that housed their cruel blades.
“Did you know my parents?” Aliha asked, suddenly curious of the strange pair.
“I knew your mother before you were born.” The way the old man stared at her made Aliha uneasy. “You look just like her.”
“She died two years ago, and most would say I had my father’s look.” Her mother had been short with brown eyes and short brown hair. “Interesting that you show up now.”
“Yes, well, I came to visit your mother’s grave, and I wanted to see how you’ve grown.”
“Why?” she asked. “Do I know you? Do you know me?” Aliha had been raised to be polite, but with the death of her father, and the exhaustion of feelings over the last few days, her mood began to sour and her temper became short. “Have you introduced yourself or your friend who plays rude by hiding in shadows?” She could feel the anger rising and she didn’t know why, but it felt good. She was willing to trade emotions; she was tired of being sad.
“My name is Gideon Saul, and I once loved your mother dearly. I would wish to know – and be friends with – her daughter. I am a master healer from across the sea. The last time I walked this land you were but a day old.”
“And my name is Teamon Shanks,” said the other stranger as he crossed the cemetery to join the pair. The man was middle-aged and had short dark hair and a brown mustache and goatee. His face was hard, but his eyes caring, and he looked at her as if he could not believe what he saw.
“Your friend looks at me as if seeing a ghost.” Aliha’s nerves began to unravel. After all she had gone through the past couple of days, these two strangers did not bring her comfort.
“My apologies, My Lady,” Captain Shanks started, but was cut short by the hot-tempered girl.
“My Lady?!” Aliha shot back. “Do I look a pretty princess to you?” The sarcasm brought a foul taste to her mouth. She had always been polite to strangers and a part of her was appalled at how she was treating the two men who showed her nothing but kindness.
“I … don’t…,” Shanks stumbling over the words he could not find. He looked to Gideon for aid, but the old man just shrugged his shoulders.
Thankfully Aliha cooled, remembering herself.
“I’m sorry, sir, I…, I have had little sleep these past few days and I just wish to be alone. If you will excuse me,” and with that she walked past the two men, making her way down the smooth stone path, and then for home; a small lonely farmhouse. She had thought to stay graveside all night, which would have been preferable to an empty house, but the intrusion of the strangers changed her mind. There was something odd about the pair – especially how they looked at her
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“Will yous relax: shes won’t be home till after dark. Now keeps lookin. It gots to be here.”
“Pax only thought him kepts it here, him don’ts know. We’ve looked everywheres.”
“And we’ll keeps lookin, sooner we finds it the sooner we be countin our shares.” Both men were dirty, uneducated, and lazy. They had timed it perfectly, passing the girl on the road on her way to the cemetery. Horas had even offered up condolences to Aliha as they passed her by, causing Cabe to snicker, until Horas drove a sharp elbow into his ribs. Cabe’s laugh turned into a series of raspy coughs as the brothers continued down the road.
When the two men reached the farmhouse, they walked right through the front door and began to sack the place. They turned over furniture, went through cupboards and drawers, and then ransacked the bedrooms. They had plenty of time to search the small home, but there was nothing worth taking. The girl kept no jewelry and the old man had no weapons. Their silverware was not silver, but rather wood and tin. These farmers were poor and lived a meager life.
“Where is Pax anyhow? He’s the one who said there’s be gold and more. Says the old man be rich. Well I don’t sees no riches, and I don’t sees no Pax. Hes should be helpin us looks.” Cabe kept mumbling until his brother cuffed him upside the head with an unwashed hand.
“Better watch it, Cabe. Pax hears you talkin like that and we’s both’ll get it.” Cabe’s brother was bigger, but no brighter. “Just keeps lookin, there’s gots to be somethin.” The two brothers continued their search, even pulling up floorboards and knocking big holes in the walls. Their efforts offered up nothing but discouragement.
**********************
Pax had entered the small town of Ionasbury early in the morning. He was a stranger and treated as such, given room to move about without being troubled. Like a fly on the wall, he gained bits and pieces of information useful to his cause.
It was late in the day when the two brothers entered the Silver Spoon tavern. Pax had picked his own table earlier, knowing they would be coming in. The information he had gathered throughout the day allowed him to set the stage so when the ruffians walked into the tavern, he knew right away his pawns had arrived.
Both men were big, standing well over six feet and easily weighing two hundred and fifty pounds, a mixture of both muscle and fat. They had dark unwashed hair that grew long and thick around large heads that sprouted big noses and square jaws. They wore loose-fitting trousers with a bib front and straps that went over the shoulders. Their overalls were stained with age and they wore them with no shirts, their unwashed bodies free to permeate the air with a foul odor that trailed in their wake.
They scanned the room with dark beady eyes as they made their way to a table in the back corner, offering rude comments to the other patrons as they slogged on by. One of the brothers, Pax guessing Horas because he was slightly bigger, reached out and slapped the hat off an old man as they passed the table he was sitting at. No one said a word as the dirty pair sat down at their usual table, and when the old man reached down to pick his hat up from off the floor, Horas simply called over to him in a threatening voice. “Leave it!” and the sorry fellow did.
Pax watched the two brothers as they harassed the bar wench that served them each a large mug of ale. They made lewd comments and Horas slapped the young lady on the backside as she left their table. The wench turned her head and gave a biting remark that made the loathsome pair laugh, and again, no one said a word.
The old man’s name was Isakar and he stared down at his hat as it sat crumpled on the floor. He had been a weapons-maker from a different land in what seemed like another life, but that was the distant past and now he was but a simple farmer. He lived alone because his wife of forty years had recently died of an aging disease, and their only son had been taken from them as a child.
Isakar had few friends and no one brave enough to stand up for him now, until a dark stranger in a long black cloak swept past him gracefully. In one fluid motion, he kicked the old man’s hat straight up into the air, caught it, and twirled it on his finger before dropping it on the old man’s head as he passed without a second glance. Every patron in the tavern stared at the stranger with a fearful mix of shock and apprehension as he approached the brothers’ table, pulled out a chair, and sat with a charming smile.
“You are the brothers Horas and Cabe?” Pax asked as he reached over, grabbed up Cabe’s ale mug, and took a long pull. The brothers stared at the man with incredulity and anger, and when the stranger spat the brown liquid back into the mug and cursed in disgust, Horas stood up from his
chair and towered over the table, fuming mad.
“You guys are famous in Asaria. Everones heard a yous,” Pax said, imitating their idiotic vernacular, but he was so charming that the brothers couldn’t tell they were being mocked. They exchanged a curious glance.
“I would like to hire the famous Ionasbury Brothers. For that is what you are called in the dark alleys of Asarian City. I am on a quest to recover a king’s lost treasure from Asaria, and I will split it with you if you help me.” As Pax spoke in a hushed tone, Horas slowly sat down, not quite knowing what to make of the man.
“Hows do we finds it?” Cabe asked with suspicion. “I‘ve nevers heard a no treasure of kings.”
“Ya, nevers heard a no treasure,” commented Horas.
“Long ago, there was a ship that run aground off the coast of Perlosia,” Pax weaved his tale, just winging it. He could have said anything and the brothers would have still been struck dumb. He bait the hook with a good lie and started to reel the two fish in. “It was an Asarian merchant ship, and another vessel, one crewed by men from Ferrinbay, found the ship and recovered the treasure.”
“Whats a vassal?” Cabe interrupted with suspicion.
“Yeah, what’s a vassal?” Horas repeated.
“It’s a boat,” Pax said with a trace of irritation. “And don’t interrupt me again. Now, the crew acquired the ship’s treasure –”
“Whats acquired?” Cabe interrupted again.
“Yeah, whats acquired?” Horas repeated suspiciously.
“The idiots from your land stole treasure from mine, and I want it back.” It was like talking to children and Pax could see now that he had to keep it simple. He leaned back in his chair and opened his cloak to expose his chain mail and sword. He sat relaxed, but there was a threatening air of intimidation as he spoke.
“There was a man on that ship by the name of Temmons,” Pax continued. “I believe he has the treasure hidden at his residence. You must go there and steal it. You are the famous Ionasbury Brothers, and it would be a perfectly smashing tale for me to take back to Asaria.”
“Temmons is dead.” Cabe replied.
“What’s Asarias?” Horas asked but was ignored.
“The old mans lived here alls his life. My pa says he’s a poors old farmer, an aint gots no gold, and he aints got no treasure,” said Cabe as he shook his head.
“Gots no treasure,” Horas mumbled, just trying to be a part of the conversation.
“He could not reveal it, or he would have been given away,” Pax said, lowering his voice. “The old man’s funeral will be tomorrow. I will meet you at the farm at midday. The house will be empty for us to search.” With that, Pax rose gracefully to leave, but was stopped when Cabe asked.
“What’s midday?”
“Ya, what’s midday?” Horas repeated.
“When the sun is right above your head,” and Pax left the tavern, locking eyes just briefly with the old man he had helped only moments ago. There was something familiar about him. Pax felt the urge to sit and talk with the old man, but there was no time. The others would be coming through the small town soon and he didn’t want to be seen. He would go and scout the Temmons farm.
While on his journey across the Eastern Ocean, Pax had heard the name Temmons and the words, ‘retrieve the treasure.’ He was curious to see what had brought him all the way to this dreary continent, and that made him move all the quicker.
Isakar watched Pax leave the tavern, and he too felt that same tug of recognition, for he was also an Asarian and it made him reach up and touch the iron pendant that hung loosely around his neck.
**********************
“Theres nothin here, Horas, I’m a tellin ya. We’ve looked everwheres.”
“We’s aint looked in the barn,” Horas replied. They were starting to get nervous. They had been there all day and they knew Aliha could return home at any moment. It was already getting dark and they had found nothing but disappointment.
“Maybe Pax found it alreadys and left,” Cabe said. “Maybe he’s not lookin to shares the treasure.” As Cabe finished the statement, the front door opened and Aliha walked in. She stopped and stared at the two men standing in the middle of her wrecked home.
“Hi, boys,” she said with a look of confusion. “Can I help you find something?” She calmly picked up an overturned chair and sat down.
“Don’t gives us any trouble, girl,” Cabe warned. “Just gives us the gold and we’s wont hurts ya.”
“What gold?” she asked. “Are you drunk, Cabe?”
“Aliha,” Cabe growled, “we’res not messin around.”
“Not messin around,” Horas threatened.
“Maybe I won’t hurt you, Horas,” she said calmly. “Maybe my friends wont hurts yas neither,” she drawled.
Horas and Cabe exchanged a look of mock fear, followed by laughter.
“Yous aint got no friends,” Cabe started to say, when a large black wolf walked through the front door and stopped at Aliha’s side. Two more wolves followed in and began moving throughout the house, hunting carefully, sniffing everything. Horas and Cabe stood frozen with fear and Aliha just sat there scratching at the wolf’s head.
“Why are you here, Cabe? You know I don’t have any gold. Have you two gone crazy or something?” She was angry but knew these two were like dealing with children.
“I’m sorries, Aliha. Wasn’t our idea anyhows – it was Pax – he’s the ones that sent us heres. I didn’t wants to, but Pax’s said he’d hurts us bad.” Cabe was babbling and on the verge of crying. All he wanted to do was get out of there. Horas just stood there repeating everything Cabe said.
“Who is Pax?” she asked, thinking of the two strangers she had met earlier.
“We’s never saws him before. Comes ta us at the Silvers Spoon, and we’s mindin’ our own business,” while Cabe spoke, Horas stood still, shaking his head and softly repeating his brother’s words. They both eyed the large wolves that had taken over the house. “And this warrior comes over and sits at ours table. He says he’d hurts us bad if we didn’t steals yer gold.” Cabe stammered.
“Steals yer gold,” Horas put in.
“My gold?” Aliha asked. “Were there two other men with Pax, like an old man and a warrior carrying two swords?” She knew they were connected somehow.
“No, just Pax, but he’s had a sword, too, and we’s were scared, Aliha,” Cabe stammered.
“If you never come back here, I’ll let you both go. Come back here and I’ll let the wolves kill you. Do you understand me, Cabe? Horas, are you listening to me?” They both nodded their heads repeatedly.
“Yes, ma'am,” the brothers said eagerly.
“Now get on home, the both of ya, and don’t run or my friends will chase ya and eats ya!” The men’s eyes grew wide as they moved slowly for the door. Cabe once more begged for forgiveness but Aliha just shook her head.
“Just go,” she said with disgust.
Aliha went to the door and watched as the brothers took off running down the road. While she stood there, she had the strange feeling she was being watched and she stared out into the early darkness but saw only trees and shadows. The two wolves walked past her and moved out into the yard, sniffing at the air and ground before running off behind the house.
Aliha turned and found Timber still sitting next to the chair so she closed and locked the door and sat back down next to the large wolf. She surveyed the damage around her as she stroked the animal behind the ears. The situation could have been worse if her forest friends had not been with her. She knew the two brothers could be dangerous, but around wolves, most people were cowards. But not Aliha; she had loved Timber from the first day they met.
Aliha was six years old and with her father in the forest to the south. They had been gathering firewood in preparation for the long winter. In fact, she remembered it had started to snow that evening. Her father would pull her in a big wooden sled that he had fashioned out of an old tree that had been d
owned by lightening. They would go into the thick stand of trees about fifty yards and then fill the sleigh with pieces of wood. Her father would use his axe to cut the larger pieces down to size, and she would gather twigs and fire brush. When the sled was full, her father would pull it back to the wagon, which was just on the outskirts of the forest. They would load the firewood into the wagon, and then go back into the dark woods for another load.
They had made several trips back and forth when the snow began to fall heavy. Her dad told her it would be their last trip, so she decided to get extra twigs, setting off into the forest in search of a large armful. Her father was busy loading the sleigh and chopping wood, so he didn’t notice she had wandered off. When he was done and the sled was full, he looked around for his sweet little daughter.
“Aliha, honey, lets go!” Robert called out. He waited and no reply. “Aliha!” he said louder. “Let’s go! We’re done here.” He waited.
“ALIHA!!!”
She walked through the snow as it fell in large heavy flakes all around her. Aliha was amazed at how deep it was; up past her tiny ankles and falling fast, and when she saw a white bunny ahead disappearing into the brush, she squealed in delight and ran after the furry animal.
Aliha chased the rabbit as it darted through the forest and she continued her pursuit for some time until she realized she could not catch it. With her hands on her hips and a pouty look on her face, she began turning in circles. It didn’t take her long to realize she was not only lost, but alone.
“Daddy!” Aliha cried out. “DADDY!” she screamed again and was suddenly scared. She started off in the direction she thought she had come. She looked for her tracks, but the snow fell heavy and it didn’t take long before they were covered. With tears streaming down her face and wearing a blanket of snow, she walked on, crying out for her dad and hugging herself tight. It was dark and cold, and worst of all; she was going to be in big trouble when her father finally found her.
