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DDDDD ZZZZZZ //
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D D AAAA RRR GGGG OOOO NN N Z I NN N EEEE ||
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D D A A R R G O O N N N Z I N N N E || Volume 10
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-=========================================================+<OOOOOOOOO>|)
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D D AAAA RRR G GG O O N N N Z I N N N E || Number 4
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DDDDD A A R R GGGG OOOO N NN ZZZZZZ I N NN EEEE ||
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\\
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\
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========================================================================
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DargonZine Distributed: 06/23/1997
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Volume 10, Number 4 Circulation: 650
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========================================================================
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Contents
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Editorial Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
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Sailor's Homecoming Jon Evans Mertz 17, 1015
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Night Three Maxim Khaytsus Naia 12, 1015
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Piercing a Steel Heart Michael Schustereit Naia, 1015
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========================================================================
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DargonZine is the publication vehicle of the Dargon Project, a
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collaborative group of aspiring fantasy writers on the Internet.
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We welcome new readers and writers interested in joining the project.
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Please address all correspondance to <dargon@shore.net> or visit us
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on the World Wide Web at http://www.shore.net/~dargon. Back issues
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are available from ftp.shore.net in members/dargon/. Issues and
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public discussions are posted to the Usenet newsgroup rec.mag.dargon.
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DargonZine 10-4, ISSN 1080-9910, (C) Copyright June, 1997 by
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the Dargon Project. Editor: Ornoth D.A. Liscomb <ornoth@shore.net>,
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Assistant Editor: Jon Evans <godling@mnsinc.com>. All rights reserved.
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All rights are reassigned to the individual contributors. Stories may
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not be reproduced or redistributed without the explicit permission of
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the author(s) involved, except in the case of freely reproducing entire
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issues for further distribution. Reproduction of issues or any portions
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thereof for profit is forbidden.
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========================================================================
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Editorial
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by Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
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<ornoth@shore.net>
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It wasn't quite Armageddon... but it *could have been*!
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The 1997 Dargon Writers' Summit took place last month in Washington
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DC. Movers and shakers (we won't specify who was which) from all four
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corners of the planet gathered to talk writing, visit tremendous damage
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upon our nation's capital, and determine the fates of millions. And we
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got some pretty nifty tee shirts, as well!
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The overall purpose of our Summits is to get our writers together
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and to build closer relationships between them, to set policy and
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goals for the project, and to have fun in the process. In each respect,
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the '97 Summit was fabulously successful.
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For many of us, it was our first exposure to the people we've been
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working with via email for years. It was great to see even people who
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had become antagonistic or isolated on the writers' list getting to know
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one another and laying a groundwork for mutual respect and friendship.
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It really was wonderful to see our writers come together with such
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enthusiasm, and I'm not referring to full-contact bowling here!
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The Summit's working sessions were equally productive. Topics
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ranged from the project's purpose and goals to how to better bring new
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readers and new writers up to speed. We also talked writing;
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brainstorming session were held on how to generate story ideas, what
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constitutes a "good" story, and how to create great characters. We even
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dealt with some lingering specific questions, such as the fates of
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certain characters after the war between Baranur and Beinison.
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In the end, I think everyone enjoyed themselves, contributed great
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ideas, and grew as a result of our getting together. And those are the
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reasons why FSFnet and DargonZine were founded in the first place.
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For pictures and more details about the Summit, check out the 1997
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Dargon Writers' Summit page on the Web site!
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This issue starts out with Jon Evans' "Sailor's Homecoming". For
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all its brevity, this story has been a work-in-progress since 1994!
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Let's hope it doesn't take Jon as long to bring his other ongoing
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projects to print! Observant readers will also notice that Jon's name
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now appears in the masthead under the title of "Assistant Editor". Jon
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has always been willing to put in extra effort in order to make the
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project a success (as shown by his hosting the DargonZine Writers'
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Summit this year), and I'm glad to have his help in running the zine.
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Also in this issue, the plot thickens in Max Khaytsus' "Deep Woods
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Inn" series. For now, this is all that is in the pipeline for this
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storyline, so if his stories have interested you, help me get Max to
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write more!
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And we end this issue with the return of Mike Schustereit, whose
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only previous Dargon story, "A Rogue's Gambit", was printed way back in
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1995. Oddly, although Mike's writing is much improved in "Piercing a
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Steel Heart", we had to threaten him with all kinds of horrible fates in
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order to convince him to finish it up and get it printed. I think you'll
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agree that it was well worth the effort (as well as the $14.95 for the
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ice pick)!
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As ever, be sure to check out the DargonZine Web site for pictures
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of the '97 Summit, maps, an online Dargon Glossary, and all the latest
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news. And be on the lookout for our next issue, because 10-5 is going to
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be a very special issue!
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========================================================================
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Sailor's Homecoming
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by Jon Evans
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<godling@mnsinc.com>
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Port Sevlyn, Mertz 17, 1015
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Andrew MacDonnel walked into the Lazy Madame, a small tavern on the
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north side of Port Sevlyn's waterfront district. He adjusted the angle
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of his new, wide-brimmed hat -- a very costly thing to have, for a
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sailor -- and stepped up to the bar. The brass pipe circling the wooden
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bar top hazily reflected the candlelight in the room. A waitress walked
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between crowded tables, decorating them with an assortment of pitchers
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and mugs. Someone played a small accordion at one of the back tables.
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Andrew smiled. He was home.
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A large man, one who used to shovel coal onto a ship's catapult
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while enemy fire splashed on the deck around him, walked up to Andrew
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from behind the bar. He looked at Andrew's smiling face for a moment,
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and tried to stare behind the whiskers on his face and the odd
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felt-and-feather hat sitting on Andrew's head. Andrew smiled back at the
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man and wondered how long this would go on. Finally, a large hand
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reached out to Andrew and gently removed the hat from Andrew's head.
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"Andrew MacDonnel!" the older man roared. "Cephas be praised! How
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are you? Where've you been for the last thirteen months? Never thought
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I'd see you here, again, that's for sure. What're you drinking these
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days? Lederian port? Are you hungry? How about a leftwich? Damnedest
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thing, Sandy was just wondering how you and Jack were doing. Sandy,"
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Kenneth called over his shoulder, "come see who's back."
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A short woman stepped out from the kitchen door. Her cropped red
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hair was slightly matted with grease and sweat, and the apron around her
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waist was brown from days without cleaning. When she recognized Andrew,
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she smiled a nearly-perfect smile, the missing lower front tooth all
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that kept her from seeming angelic. The dirt around her face didn't hide
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the few wrinkles she'd acquired in the last year, just as her long
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sleeves didn't obscure the fact that she hadn't eaten as well as she
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might have. Still, she was a welcome sight, and Andrew opened his arms
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to hold the woman for whom he had returned from war.
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"Hello, Pumpkin," he muttered in the embrace.
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She smiled. "Hello, Slick," she responded, hugging one of the two
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men she'd promised to marry, if they came back from the war. The other
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still hadn't returned. "How've you been?"
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"Tired, hungry ... All in all," he pulled back from the embrace and
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looked into her nut-brown eyes. "Same as usual."
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She squeezed him one more time before letting go. He backed away
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comfortably, looking towards the old man behind the bar to catch the
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welcoming wink to which he was accustomed. "How 'bout that meal?" Andrew
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asked, and the old man laughed.
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"Sit yourself down, lad, and ol' Kenneth will have you loosening
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your belt in no time."
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One nourishing meal later, and Andrew was indeed loosening his
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belt, the last of his meat and potato stew settling into his stomach. He
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leaned back in the chair, held both arms out to his side, and groaned as
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he stretched his muscles. His stomach felt more than full. He grasped
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the glass of Lederian port beside his plate and brought it to his lips.
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Sandy smiled to him from across the room as someone yelled out "Bring
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another round!" She waved to the other waitress to take care of the
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order as she skirted around the sailors, slapping a few groping hands
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along the way.
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As she sat down at his table, a more serious look overtook her.
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Andrew knew what was coming next, and he sat forward. She reached out
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for his hand when she found the nerve.
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"Have you seen Jack lately?" she asked.
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Andrew shook his head. "Not since five months ago, when we were in
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the Dargon fleet."
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She looked surprised for a moment. "I thought the two of you were
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going south to fight on the border?"
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"Well," he replied, "we're sailing men. Better off manning the deck
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of a supply ship, or piloting a course along the west coast, than
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fighting man-to-man. We knew we weren't foot soldiers, Pumpkin. We
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couldn't just run up to the front lines and die, now, could we?" He let
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his gaze fall to the table. "We had something to come back for ..."
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"What's the last you heard of him?" She stopped for a moment. "I
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don't mean to sound disappointed ... I loved you both, truly ... but I
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have to know."
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"We were on the same ship, funny thing. Figured we'd be separated,
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put on different crews when we got to Dargon, but there was an enemy
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fleet sighted and they hurried us on as quick as can be. One weapons
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master, one pilot. Two men needed on the same ship. We joked about
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neither of us making it back."
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"So he's-"
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"I don't know!" He stared at her for a moment, then reached for his
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glass and forced some of the red liquid into his body. "I don't know for
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sure ... he should be, that's certain." He sighed, and brought the cup
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back to his lips.
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"We were on the _Argean_ -- he's mastering the catapult at the
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fore, me piloting her at the Captain's side -- when we went in. Damn
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fool nearly got us all burned, not firing when the Captain ordered, but
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you know Driftwood: got to do things his way. Well, he was right, the
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arm didn't have the range if he'd fired right off. We ended up just
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toasted by the fire, and he dropped three buckets into one of the lead
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ships.
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"We passed into the fleet ... ships speeding past us, not
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particularly worrying about a tiny, pieced-together boat. We looked like
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a dinghy with a catapult on top. What's to worry, right? Well, one of
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the last ships worried. Dropped a bucket of cinders amid-ship, sails
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catching like tinder. Crew got it under control, but not before we lost
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our wind. Sitting dead in the water, with an enemy ship each starboard
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and port. Port decides to latch on, but with no mage on that one, they
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went scrambling for the buckets. Fire burned their sails and started
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working their masts. Archers on the starboard, though ... they forced us
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down in a flight of arrows and a whole new meaning of the word hot
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started up center of the ship.
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"Captain yells 'Let her burn, latch on to starboard!' so we did,
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trying to take her down with us. We latched, arrows flying by our heads,
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and we fought between the smoke and the flame, and I didn't have a clue
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as to where ol' Driftwood had gotten. Only knew we were going to die,
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and there was no two ways about it. Should have all died. Every last
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bleeding one of us."
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Andrew rested for a moment, wiping the memory of the smoke from his
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eyes. Sandy waited patiently, still gripping his left hand with both of
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hers. He took his time. He thought about what happened before trying to
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tell her.
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"It wasn't exactly clear ... still isn't, entirely. Somehow, while
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the fighting was going on, and the ship was burning, Jack took five men,
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lowered one of the dinghies-"
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"He didn't run!" she stared at him in amazement.
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"No. No, he lowered the boat and tipped it, filling it with water.
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Five men pumped their hearts near bursting, 'bout 'majin, raising that
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load and dumping the water all over the deck. Smoke came from
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everywhere, but most of the burning had stopped. Someone called for the
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lines to be cut, and next thing I know I'm alone on a Beinison ship
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facing half a crew of Beinisons with a half-broken cutlass in my hand.
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They just started forward when someone pulls me by the neck and throws
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me overboard. It was Drift, soaked to the bone, covered in coal, and
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bleeding from one eye. Looked like a ghost of the deep. I hit the water
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pretty hard -- and probably some splinters of wood -- and next I know
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the battle's over, Dargon's free, and Drift ain't been heard of since."
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He reached for his glass and sipped some wine. "And that's all I
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know."
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Sandy sighed, looking past Andrew to an ambiguous point on the
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wall. "Well. You're home, now. At least I've still got one of you." She
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half-smiled at him.
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"Yeah," he answered. "Not a total loss." He stared down at his
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glass.
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Sandy stood up. "Well," she said as she looked away. "I need to get
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back to the tables."
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"What?"
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"Huhn?"
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"That's it?" he asked. "No 'Welcome back, Andrew ... I've missed
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you ... how are *you* doing ... why did it take you so long to come
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home?'" He stared at her, but she didn't return his gaze. He was a
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veteran sailor who had been through a war, but his stomach suddenly felt
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queasy.
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Sandy returned to the tables.
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The next morning, Andrew came down from his room and sat at the
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bar. Kenneth came out of the kitchen accompanied by a small cloud of
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smoke and the smell of eggs and bacon. He sat a plate down in front of
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Andrew and gave the sailor a fork and knife.
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"Forks?" Andrew asked. "Moving up in the world, are we?"
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Kenneth frowned. "Taking advantage of other people's losses. When
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the Beinison army marched through here, last summer, hundreds were
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killed. Entire families, just for resisting the enemy. I don't really
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need the forks for the lot I get in here, but there was a young girl
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selling her parent's things, and I bought them off her for a cheap
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price. It was more than I could afford, seeing as I had to get this
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place fixed up, but she needed it more than I did, I'm sure."
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"Well," Andrew said, "let me be a paying customer, for once, and
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help ease the cost." He reached into his pouch and pulled out a Round.
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He slapped it down on the bar top and said, "I've finally got some coin
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to pay you back for all those times you bought my beer ... and food ...
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and gave me a place to sleep."
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Kenneth protested, sliding the silver coin towards Andrew. "Now,
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now ... you know you and Jack never had to pay for a thing, here. You
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more than earned everything I ever gave you."
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"Yes, but now I'm not doing odd jobs ... chopping wood in the back,
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keeping drunks from starting fights."
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"Call it your 'Welcome Home' meal."
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"Best welcome I've gotten, yet," Andrew said bitterly.
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"Now, Andrew," Kenneth started. "Don't go feeling bad about the
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girl. She truly missed you while you were away."
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"Wouldn't know it from last night."
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There was a pause while Andrew cut into his eggs. Kenneth got a rag
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from behind the bar and began to wipe the top of the bar. "So where'd
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you get the money to buy a meal?" Kenneth asked. "You never had it
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before."
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"I drank it all away, before. Drift and I, both. Every time we made
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some decent money. Just needed the shirts on our backs and a place to
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rest our heads. Slept next to your dog out back, many a night, I can
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tell you. Or someone else's."
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"So how do you come by it now?"
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"Spent a few months working with the longshoremen in Dargon."
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Kenneth scoffed. "A land-lubber!"
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"Hey, it was good money! Besides," he continued, "I didn't have
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anyone to leech off, in Dargon. You were always good enough to
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'accidentally' leave the bar off the back door, when it got too cold,
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and more than once Drift and I found steaming hot bowls of soup in the
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kitchen." He looked up appreciatively at Kenneth. "Just happened to be
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left out on the counter."
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Kenneth looked down at the counter and diligently wiped it with his
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rag. "That *was* a lucky thing, wasn't it? Wonder what made me so
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forgetful ..."
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Andrew was about to continue when he heard someone coming down the
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stairs. When he looked over, he saw Sandy approaching the counter.
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"You'll want some bread with your breakfast," Kenneth quickly
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surmised. "It's only a day old, shouldn't take me long to steam it up."
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He went through the door and into the kitchen.
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Sandy sat down next to Andrew. "Hey," she said. Normally, he would
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answer in kind; this morning, he did not. "I was hoping we could talk."
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"Don't know what else to tell you," he said bitterly, "can't think
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of anything about Jack that I didn't cover last night."
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"That's not what I mean," she said.
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Andrew stared at her, waiting for her to continue.
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Finally, she stood up. "You're being impossible."
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"I'm being impossible?" Andrew asked, surprised at the statement.
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"I've been gone for over a year!"
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"And, what," she replied, "were you doing during that year?
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Bouncing around on a ship, having an adventure, being irresponsible -"
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"Fighting a war," he interrupted her.
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"Well the war was here, too, Andrew. Lots of people died. Lots of
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close friends."
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"Did you promise you'd marry them, too?"
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Kenneth came through the kitchen door with a small loaf of bread in
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his hands. "Now you listen to me, Andrew MacDonnel," Sandy said. Kenneth
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immediately turned around and went back into the kitchen, muttering
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something about needing cheese with the bread. "I counted the days that
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passed while you and Jack were away. I heard about the fighting in
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Pyridain. I heard about Gateway. I heard about the Dargon fleet. Then
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the war was over, and people were returning to Port Sevlyn. But not the
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dead. And not you and Jack. So what was I supposed to think?" She picked
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up the rag Kenneth had left on the counter and started using it on the
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brass bar.
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"We might have been injured-"
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"But you weren't," she yelled, slapping him with the rag, "were
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you?" She hit him again with the rag, threw it on the counter and walked
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out.
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Andrew sat in his own silence.
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After breakfast, Andrew walked around town. He wanted to see the
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old sights and find some of the old gang he used to know. The old gang
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wasn't a very close group of friends, and there weren't a lot of them.
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Mostly, they were people who used to drink and fight together, more
|
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often among themselves rather than with anyone else. But there was an
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odd bond between them -- a level of respect -- and Andrew hoped he could
|
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find it there again.
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Passing through the town, he saw a lot of familiar faces. People
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with whom he once had drinks, or whose dogs were particularly hairy on
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cold winter nights. There were even a few fathers he would have avoided,
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if they had known where their daughters were on a warm summer night. At
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one house, he stopped and saw a man and asked after his daughter. The
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man lowered his gaze somberly and walked away. She had not survived the
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invasion.
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Andrew also ran into a few of his old acquaintances. People that
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had hired him for odd jobs, in the past. He asked if they needed any
|
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more help, but they declined. They had no money and little food. One
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person did tell Andrew about Smitty needing help to tear down the old
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smithy. As Andrew made his way down to the smith, he remembered the
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times he and Jack had snuck into the smith at the end of the evening to
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find some coals. They would steal a few from the cooling bellows using
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the smith's iron pail, and then start a small fire in Coleman's Field,
|
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using driftwood they found on the edge of the Laraka. Jack would tell
|
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Andrew how the driftwood had probably seen more of the country than most
|
|
people, just drifting down the river. Perhaps it had seen the walls of
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Gateway, or even come from the edge of Magnus itself!
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Suddenly, Andrew didn't want to help Smitty tear down his old
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smithy. He did not want to chop wood, plow a field, or keep the peace at
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the tavern. He realized that he wanted to see Jack again. Driftwood. His
|
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best friend. But no matter where in town he went, it wasn't the same. He
|
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wouldn't run into Jack at Smitty's, or the Lazy Madame. He wouldn't be
|
|
building fires in Coleman's Field. And if he did build them, even if
|
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Sandy came out to join him, it wouldn't be the same.
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|
He had not returned to Port Sevlyn to find Sandy and marry her. He
|
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had come back looking for the life he used to live, only to find it was
|
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no longer there.
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When Andrew returned to the Lazy Madame, it was near dusk. There
|
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was a troubadour singing songs in the back, near the fireplace, and
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Sandy was walking through a scattered crowd of locals. The music was
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mellow and serious, about a man who travels the world searching for love
|
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and finding only hardship along the way.
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Sandy joined Andrew when he sat at the bar, and Kenneth quietly
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moved to the other end to help some customers that were sure to arrive
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|
at any minute. "Andrew, I'm sorry," she said.
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|
"It's alright," he replied. She looked at him quizzically. "Look, I
|
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know you care about me. I care about you, too. But it's different, now.
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Things have changed, and there's no going back." He sighed.
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|
"Maybe," she said, "something will bring us back to the way things
|
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were. Not exactly, but close. Maybe there's still something, somewhere,
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that we need to find. To make it like it was."
|
|
"There's nothing like that," Andrew said. "It was Jack. He was the
|
|
dreamer, the one that told the wild stories and convinced people to do
|
|
things that they wouldn't normally do. I just went along, like everyone
|
|
else."
|
|
"No," Sandy returned. "You were more than that. You were his
|
|
favorite. He once told me he'd rather have no one around at all than
|
|
have a crowd of people doing things when you weren't around. And
|
|
besides, your good looks are what brought all the women around for him
|
|
to tell stories to."
|
|
Andrew smiled. "We made a good team."
|
|
The troubadour's song changed, picking a light tune about summer
|
|
and love and the mischief men find themselves in during the season.
|
|
Andrew saw three strangers walk into the room, an older couple and their
|
|
daughter. By their wardrobe, Andrew figured them to be travelers, and
|
|
not without money. The father and mother seemed to be in their
|
|
mid-thirties, and their daughter about seventeen.
|
|
"What will you do now?" Sandy asked him.
|
|
"Well, I went looking for work around town, but I don't want to be
|
|
doing the same old thing I used to do. But there's always work at the
|
|
docks for a longshoreman, or if I'm lucky I'll find a boat to pilot
|
|
along the river."
|
|
"Why do you need money now? You've got some coin, according to my
|
|
father, and enough to live on for a while."
|
|
"Well I want to settle down, Pumpkin. Maybe you're not available to
|
|
me, anymore, but I'm sure there's a lovely young lass in the town that
|
|
might find me a good catch!" Sandy smiled as caught a familiar glimmer
|
|
in his eye.
|
|
"In the mean time," he continued, turning himself on the stool to
|
|
glance at the daughter, "I've bait enough to catch a few fish and test
|
|
out the waters."
|
|
Andrew smiled. He was home.
|
|
|
|
========================================================================
|
|
|
|
Night Three
|
|
by Maxim Khaytsus
|
|
<khaytsus@alumni.cs.colorado.edu>
|
|
Naia 12, 1015
|
|
|
|
"Ravi?" Salish called through the open kitchen door. "Ravi?"
|
|
"What is it?" The red-headed woman appeared from the back of the
|
|
inn, sword in hand, expecting trouble. Things at the inn had been too
|
|
quiet, too long.
|
|
"No, no. Look," Salish said, pointing into the common room.
|
|
"What?"
|
|
"Bend down." He guided her. "Up on the second floor."
|
|
Ravi bent over the counter, trying to see the second floor balcony
|
|
in the common room, mostly hidden by the low ceiling of the vestibule.
|
|
Two pairs of feet could be seen at a door. They stood there a moment,
|
|
then the door opened and they went inside.
|
|
"I just rented out a room!"
|
|
"You did what?"
|
|
"A toast!" Salish picked up a mug sitting on the counter. "To good
|
|
business at a good location!"
|
|
"You rented out a room?" Ravi asked as he took a big gulp from the
|
|
mug.
|
|
"Well, this is an inn and they wanted lodging, so ... It seemed the
|
|
natural thing to do." He got up and got another mug of ale for Ravi.
|
|
She laughed. "I didn't think about that. This is an inn."
|
|
"'The Forgotten Inn'," Salish added, again raising the mug in a
|
|
symbolic toast to the sign hanging outside the door.
|
|
"Feels a little strange," Ravi said. She took a careful sip from
|
|
the large vessel. "And just after we buried Delor
|
|
"We can always take the sign down," Salish suggested, obviously not
|
|
really liking the idea.
|
|
"No ... No, we shouldn't. I don't think Sand would want to."
|
|
"Sand? He wasn't even here for most of the fight."
|
|
"He's more native to these parts than the rest of us," Ravi
|
|
explained. "And this is more of a home to him than to the rest of us. He
|
|
was just telling me last night about how he met Delor a couple of years
|
|
back."
|
|
Salish pulled up a stool and sat down. "It's so hard to understand
|
|
what happened here that night ... Maybe if we had expected it, or if I
|
|
had my bow, or Delor was ..."
|
|
"Hard to believe it's been less than two days," Ravi muttered. She
|
|
did not like Salish changing the topic. She wanted to talk about Delor,
|
|
but she wanted to talk about the bandits as well.
|
|
"Hard to believe I feel sorry for a slob who overcharged me,"
|
|
Salish sighed.
|
|
"I'm surprised I've come to respect the man in death more than I
|
|
did in life," Ravi agreed. "I've stayed here a few times before ..."
|
|
"I guess if we pay the taxes on it," Salish started, "we can keep
|
|
this place." He paused, thinking. "What am I saying? I'm not ready to
|
|
settle down."
|
|
"Are any of us ... How much did you charge for the room?"
|
|
"Three Rounds."
|
|
"Three Rounds?!"
|
|
"Sure, that's what Kreb and I were charged." Salish paused again,
|
|
thinking. "It was three Rounds a day for a regular room, four for a room
|
|
and a bath and five per day for a corner room with a bath. Stabling is a
|
|
Round a day, plus five Bits to groom the horse."
|
|
"You'd think this was Merchants' Quarter, Hawksbridge," Ravi
|
|
laughed. "This is a dunghill!"
|
|
"Compared to what's out there," Salish motioned at the door, "this
|
|
is lodging fit for nobility."
|
|
Ravi nodded. "We're going to have to be ready for guests in this
|
|
case. Why don't I go and check the rooms and see if they're in good
|
|
shape."
|
|
Salish hopped off his stool. "If you see Kreb, send him my way."
|
|
|
|
Kishore watched Sand put the last of the horses which had belonged
|
|
to the brigands in the barn and helped him close the doors. "That's an
|
|
extra eight horses to deal with," the woodsman said, heaving at the door
|
|
one last time. "They'll stay in there."
|
|
"They're good animals," Kishore noted, referring to the horses the
|
|
brigands rode. "I imagine they'd fetch a good price on the market."
|
|
"Three or four Marks, easily," Sand agreed. "But I get the feeling
|
|
they didn't happen upon them honestly."
|
|
"Well, actually, neither did we."
|
|
"Honestly enough for my taste," Sand grumbled.
|
|
They headed back to the inn.
|
|
"What changed your mind to stay longer?" Sand asked as they crossed
|
|
the yard behind the house.
|
|
"Jana. We've been on the road for quite some time, sleeping mostly
|
|
under the open sky. A storm overtook us a few nights ago ... It's nice
|
|
to sleep in a bed, with a roof overhead."
|
|
"You're not ..." Sand started to say something, but did not
|
|
finish.
|
|
"No, I'm not used to being rained on," Kishore said, guessing at
|
|
what the woodsman was after. Like the woodsman, he appreciated what
|
|
little privacy was afforded to him.
|
|
Sand nodded. "Will you help us look for the brigands?"
|
|
Kishore shrugged. "I don't want to promise what I'm not sure I can
|
|
deliver. Jana is my primary responsibility. She is young and in search
|
|
of an adventure. I don't want her to learn the dangers of adventuring at
|
|
this age. Not first hand, anyhow."
|
|
They entered the inn through the rear door and came into the
|
|
vestibule by the back room.
|
|
"You're, of course, welcome to stay here as long as you need," Sand
|
|
said. "You've spilled as much blood as the next man defending this
|
|
place."
|
|
"It's the blood spilling that makes me want to leave," Kishore
|
|
responded.
|
|
They paused at the door in the vestibule, not far from the counter
|
|
behind which sat Salish. Giles Kreb rumbled down the stairs from the
|
|
second floor. Short as he was, he was also plump, and made quite a
|
|
racket on the way down.
|
|
"Ravi wants to see you upstairs." He came to a stop at the bottom.
|
|
"Corner room."
|
|
"Him or me?"
|
|
"Both."
|
|
Exchanging a puzzled look, Kishore and Sand proceeded upstairs.
|
|
"What'd you want, Sal?" the midget asked. He looked back after the
|
|
two men, neither of which made an effort to move out of his way as they
|
|
went up.
|
|
"I rented a room out," the tall archer answered.
|
|
"So I've heard." Kreb went behind the counter and moved a stool
|
|
closer to the front.
|
|
"I figure if we can fill half the rooms at three Rounds a night,
|
|
that's thirty Rounds ... That's over forty Marks a month!"
|
|
"From what I've seen," Kreb said, "this inn'll be lucky if it fills
|
|
two rooms a night. What fool'd ever build a twenty room inn in the
|
|
middle of nowhere!?"
|
|
"Some fools are really visionaries in disguise," Salish declared.
|
|
"Maybe this was one of them ..."
|
|
Kreb grumbled. "We'll make better money guarding a caravan."
|
|
"Stay here and watch for business," Salish advised. "The two that
|
|
came in left their horses out front. I promised I'd put them up."
|
|
|
|
Sand knocked on the partially open door to the first corner room.
|
|
"Yes?" Ravi's voice sounded.
|
|
Sand pushed the door open and entered the room, followed by
|
|
Kishore. "Shorty says you wanted to see us."
|
|
The room they were in was somewhat of a mess. The floor was dirty,
|
|
the bed frame cracked. A broken chair stood off in a corner. One of the
|
|
window shutters was missing and a big stain could be seen on the floor
|
|
where rain would freely blow in.
|
|
"Either of you know the first thing about being a carpenter?"
|
|
"Possibly first and second," Sand said after Kishore shook his
|
|
head.
|
|
"Good," Ravi answered. "Look at this mess. We need to get this room
|
|
in shape. Would you help?"
|
|
"Why? Your room too small for you?"
|
|
"We've got guests," Ravi said. "This is an inn, after all."
|
|
"Guests?" Kishore asked.
|
|
"A couple of people came in just recently. They're staying in the
|
|
room down the corridor."
|
|
Sand frowned. "I didn't expect to be running an inn ..."
|
|
"This is an inn," Ravi stressed, "and we are staying here, so
|
|
that's just a part of what'll be expected of us. We either give free
|
|
room and board, or we charge for it and I see nothing wrong with
|
|
charging money for a place to stay. If it's in good shape, anyhow."
|
|
Sand walked across to the window and examined the wall where the
|
|
missing shutter used to hang. "I guess I can do something about it.
|
|
Midget or his friend know anything about woodwork?"
|
|
Ravi shook her head. "They can chop it."
|
|
"Great." Sand turned to Kishore. "I don't suppose you've got some
|
|
hidden talents?"
|
|
"Sorry," the Lashkirian laughed. "I hadn't seen a tree until after
|
|
I could hold a sword."
|
|
Sand let out a laugh for the first time in two days. "No wood, no
|
|
rain. What did you do all your life?"
|
|
"I fought the Haber-Hayn," Kishore said, almost immediately
|
|
regretting the fast words. The woodsman's laugh gave him a false sense
|
|
of security.
|
|
"The what?" Ravi asked.
|
|
"The clan that fought my clan," the Lashkirian sighed. "The desert
|
|
is not barren of conflict."
|
|
|
|
Giles Kreb moved the stool closer to the counter and climbed up on
|
|
it. Sitting atop the stool, he could easily see over the counter, which
|
|
otherwise was chin high to him. He looked around, wondering if the fat
|
|
man who owned the inn kept a log of guests. Neither he, nor Salish, were
|
|
asked to sign in, as was customary at most inns and taverns that offered
|
|
a bed to weary travelers. For that matter, he witnessed Ravi, the
|
|
red-haired woman, come in and not sign in. It was strange that no
|
|
records existed. Perhaps the proprietor was illiterate, but then there
|
|
was the name of the inn, carved over the door. There had to be a ledger
|
|
somewhere!
|
|
Kreb twisted right and left on the stool, trying to see what else
|
|
was in the space behind the counter. Was there something he overlooked?
|
|
The front door opened and a pair of men in grey uniforms walked in.
|
|
They paused only a moment, to identify Kreb at the counter and headed
|
|
directly for him.
|
|
"Can I help you, gentlemen?" Kreb perked up, ready to make another
|
|
sale. The men were clearly not the Dargon Ducal or Town Guard. On their
|
|
uniforms they wore the Narragan coat of arms and other symbols.
|
|
"Are you the owner of this establishment?" one of the soldiers
|
|
asked.
|
|
"I ... well, as much as I can be," Kreb brushed his gut. If one
|
|
sixths of the inn was all he could claim, then he was one sixths an
|
|
owner -- no less one than any one else.
|
|
"We're with Duke Narragan's personal guard. Have you seen this
|
|
girl?" The guard handed Kreb a sheet with a picture of a woman, looking
|
|
remarkably like Jana. The picture appeared to be a sketch from a larger
|
|
painting.
|
|
Giles Kreb bit his lip to maintain a neutral expression. "What she
|
|
do?"
|
|
"We believe she's with a tall dark-skinned man, possibly a Benosian
|
|
or a Lashkirian. He kidnapped her just over a fortnight ago."
|
|
Kreb shook his head.
|
|
"There is a reward -- five Marks for the man and ten more for the
|
|
girl's safe return."
|
|
Kreb had to bite his lip even harder, unsure why he was protecting
|
|
the lizard man, but proud of his ability to stand up to the guards. Too
|
|
often he had found himself on the wrong side of their wrath and this
|
|
time he held power over them.
|
|
"That's a lot of gold for a face on parchment."
|
|
The two guards exchanged a conspiring glance. "The girl is the
|
|
daughter to Duke Narragan."
|
|
"His daughter? You should probably sit at home and wait for a
|
|
ransom notice."
|
|
"Do you mind if we hang this notice here?"
|
|
Kreb shrugged. "Use your own nails."
|
|
One of the guards quickly produced a hammer and nail and proceeded
|
|
to hammer the sheet to the wall right across from the counter in the
|
|
vestibule.
|
|
"Keep it down in there!" Ravi's voice floated down from the second
|
|
floor.
|
|
"Yeah, yeah," Kreb called back as the hammering stopped.
|
|
The guard posting the notice replaced the hammer on his belt and
|
|
returned to the counter.
|
|
"Would you like a room as well?" Kreb asked. He could see by
|
|
looking at them that they would refuse, but he had to ask.
|
|
"We must make it to Dargon with all haste," the soldier who had
|
|
been doing all the talking said.
|
|
"It's a fortnight's journey," Kreb repeated the words Delor said to
|
|
him and Salish. "You're bound to get lost at night and not make it at
|
|
all."
|
|
The two men exchanged concerned glances. "Which way to Dargon?"
|
|
"Right there," Kreb pointed out the door, twisting his stubby
|
|
finger to point east. "Down the road and through the woods."
|
|
"Does the road fork?"
|
|
"Not if you stick to the wagon tracks in the dirt."
|
|
"I wish to buy two pints of lamp oil, then," the soldier responded.
|
|
He sounded rather determined.
|
|
"A Round," Kreb said, hiding a smile. "A Round each."
|
|
"A Round?!" the guard exclaimed. "I can buy it in town for four or
|
|
five Bits a pint!"
|
|
"But we're not in town," Kreb stressed, "and lamp oil doesn't grow
|
|
on trees ..."
|
|
The guard angrily slapped some coins on the counter.
|
|
Kreb smiled and hoped off the stool. "I'll give you a room for two
|
|
silver, if you want ..."
|
|
"Give me the oil."
|
|
|
|
"What was that?" Kishore asked as Ravi returned to the room.
|
|
"I don't know. Sounded like Kreb was beating something into the
|
|
wall."
|
|
Sand looked up from examining the broken bed. "If he wasn't fixing
|
|
something, he will be when I get down there."
|
|
"Maybe he was building himself a stool," Kishore laughed.
|
|
"Arrogant little ass."
|
|
"Cut it out, you two," Ravi warned. "He was good for you when he
|
|
helped in the fight. Remember that when you're talking about him."
|
|
"He's an arrogant little ass," Kishore repeated Sand's words, "with
|
|
no respect for other cultures or people. He's obnoxious, greedy, and
|
|
short tempered. And short."
|
|
"So you'd have fought him if those men hadn't come?" Ravi asked.
|
|
"I'd have beat him into the ground."
|
|
"Is 'lizard man' as bad a thing to be called as 'dwarf'?"
|
|
Kishore set his jaw. "I never called him that."
|
|
"Give me a hand," Sand asked Kishore and they flipped over the bed
|
|
as Ravi continued talking.
|
|
"I think a lot of others have and it made him bitter, just like you
|
|
are at being called a 'lizard man'."
|
|
"He should keep his bitterness to himself," Kishore answered,
|
|
straightening up. "Have some respect."
|
|
"Since you're staying here, can you promise me not to start any
|
|
fights?"
|
|
"Damn ants ..." Sand muttered over the conversation behind him.
|
|
Kishore had leaned on the tilted bed after it was turned over, but
|
|
Sand's comment forced him to step away. "I won't start anything, but I
|
|
will finish anything Kreb starts," he said and turned to look at the
|
|
bed.
|
|
"Then let's hope he only does beneficial things," Ravi stressed the
|
|
objective of the conversation.
|
|
"Ants," Sand shook his head. "White ants. See right here?"
|
|
Kishore bent down to get a closer look where the woodsman pointed.
|
|
A series of small holes could be seen in the boards on the floor.
|
|
"I can fix the bed," Sand said, "but this ..."
|
|
"I remember my parents used lye to kill them," Ravi said, also
|
|
taking a closer look.
|
|
"Lye?"
|
|
"Sure. As soon as someone hunts us some fresh dinner, I can boil
|
|
some up."
|
|
Kishore let loose a twisted smile, but hurried to hide it, looking
|
|
at what Sand was doing. "Can you fix it?"
|
|
"Easier than fixing you and that midget. I'll need a board to
|
|
reinforce the bed. I saw some in the storage room. The floor ... depends
|
|
on how bad it is on the other side."
|
|
"What about the shutters?" Ravi asked. "If it keeps blowing wind
|
|
and rain in here, the planks will rot, no matter what else you fix."
|
|
"Shutters will be tougher. I'll need a block of wood to cut them.
|
|
We'll need to fell a tree ... or just get a set in town."
|
|
"If we have enough customers," Ravi said, "we can buy a set."
|
|
"Why?" Sand got up. "Have you had enough adventuring? Want to run
|
|
an inn now?"
|
|
"I'd like to avoid going through Tench any time soon," Ravi smiled.
|
|
"I've got the feeling few people will be happy to see me there."
|
|
"Well, I'm willing to give this inn business a try," Sand said.
|
|
"Maybe until I find Delor's kids ... or find out that he doesn't have
|
|
any."
|
|
"What about you?" Ravi asked Kishore.
|
|
"Maybe a few more days and I'll have to be leaving," he said.
|
|
"See if they still remember me in Tench," Ravi laughed.
|
|
"I'll do better than that. I'll ..."
|
|
Something crashed outside, followed by a series of loud
|
|
exclamations. Ravi rushed to the door, followed by Kishore and then
|
|
Sand. From the landing, they could see two men pulling Giles Kreb off a
|
|
third. The midget roared furiously, managing to use his smaller bulkier
|
|
stature to lever one of the men over himself before being tackled by the
|
|
third.
|
|
"Damn them!" Sand exclaimed and leaped over the second floor guard
|
|
rail, crashing on one of the men below. He grabbed the man by his black
|
|
cuir boulli and flung him to the ground, giving Kreb a chance to regain
|
|
his feet.
|
|
"The brigands," Ravi whispered, recognizing the black leather
|
|
armor.
|
|
Kishore followed Sand's example, taking a leap off the second
|
|
floor, landing on a brigand about to smash a chair across Kreb's back.
|
|
Both men tumbled to the floor, knocking Kreb down in the process.
|
|
Kishore attempted to wrestle the large man he had tackled, until a
|
|
sudden crash and splintering of wood sounded above and the brigand went
|
|
limp, dropping on Kishore.
|
|
Giles Kreb tossed aside the the remnants of the chair he had
|
|
smashed across the Lashkirian's opponent's back and rushed at the man he
|
|
had initially tackled when the three brigands first came in. Tripping
|
|
over the scattered furniture, they both tumbled into the vestibule of
|
|
the inn, coming to a rest against the edge of the counter before the
|
|
front door.
|
|
Kishore jumped up to his feet and grabbed hold of a brigand's arm,
|
|
who was about to strike at Sand. The man turned to face the Lashkirian,
|
|
a much larger opponent than Sand, when the woodsman kicked at the back
|
|
of his knees, bringing him down to the ground. A second strike at the
|
|
man's head knocked him cold.
|
|
Kishore rushed to Kreb's aid, making it to the vestibule just in
|
|
time to see the midget smash his opponent into the wall. The man wavered
|
|
in place for a moment and fell forward, just missing impacting Kreb. A
|
|
splatter of red remained on the wall.
|
|
Kishore carefully examined the blood on the wall. It was clustered
|
|
around and dripping off a heavy nail, hammered in at the brigand's head
|
|
level. His impact into the wall forced the sharp metal spike to
|
|
penetrate at the base of his skull.
|
|
Kreb shrugged, as Sand made his way into the vestibule from the
|
|
common room and Ravi came down the stairs.
|
|
"Why the hell did you hammer that in?" Sand asked as Kishore bent
|
|
down to check the bandit.
|
|
"I was going to hang a picture ..." Kreb muttered.
|
|
"Of what?"
|
|
"Uh ..."
|
|
"He's dead," Kishore got up. "I think that went right in his
|
|
spine."
|
|
"Lucky hit ..."
|
|
"Why don't you clean up your luck," Sand muttered.
|
|
The front door swung open and Salish entered the vestibule,
|
|
whistling a tune. He paused, looking at the carnage in the two rooms.
|
|
"What the ..."
|
|
"Same armor," Ravi said. "They had to have come for Delor."
|
|
"They asked for 'the fat goat'," Kreb said. "And if I saw more men
|
|
dressed like them."
|
|
"They're probably backtracking," Sand said. "It's only a matter of
|
|
time before more come. We'll have to fight them all ..."
|
|
"We should've thought of that," Ravi said. She sounded angry. "This
|
|
could have cost us dearly."
|
|
Kishore turned to look back into the common room, where the two
|
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unconscious bodies lay. "Three chairs and a table were worth it."
|
|
"There's that slab of wood for the shutters," Sand chuckled, seeing
|
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the ruined table.
|
|
The five of them remained standing in the vestibule, looking at one
|
|
another, at the litter and bodies scattered on the floor, no longer sure
|
|
if this inheritance of theirs and the task Constable Trumfor had charged
|
|
them with were such a good idea after all. They were now challenged in
|
|
what they had assumed to be a safe haven, a home of sorts. A place they
|
|
had trusted to be their fortress. Now blood and bodies and broken
|
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furniture littered the floor. They would have to fight for everything,
|
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even this piece of land, far removed from the nearest city.
|
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"Let's clean this mess up." There was nothing else to do.
|
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========================================================================
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|
Piercing a Steel Heart
|
|
by Mike Schustereit
|
|
<schustmv@bp.com>
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Naia, 1015
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|
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She sat at the table and listened to the rain. It had done this for
|
|
days and she was growing tired of the constant sounds the raindrops
|
|
made. She looked at the hearth. The fire blazed away and her stockpile
|
|
of wood was large enough to get her through another night of storms.
|
|
Lightning flashed, the light flaring in the gap between the
|
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shutters.
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|
"Farrell," she said, patting her hand on her thigh to get the
|
|
hound's attention. The dog stood and stretched then walked away from its
|
|
bed near the fireplace. When he got near enough she patted his head and
|
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he looked at her contentedly. The lightning flashed again.
|
|
She stood and the hound made his way back to the fire. The carefree
|
|
nature of the hound brought a smile to her face. She paused as he
|
|
circled his bed before dropping to the floor. She walked around him and
|
|
stirred the stew pot that hung over the fire. The rich smell of the stew
|
|
made her look at the hound. "Thank you," she said to him, "your catch
|
|
will be quite a tasty treat."
|
|
She stirred the stew for a while then returned to her chair. Not
|
|
knowing what to do with her hands, she ran them through her hair.
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|
"I remember when Doth used to love to comb my hair," she sighed.
|
|
A rapping at the door startled her. She looked at the hound, but he
|
|
was fast asleep. Then she heard it again. This time a voice followed the
|
|
sound.
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|
"Excuse me sir," the voice said, "or madam, may I come in out of
|
|
the rain."
|
|
She walked to the door. Farrell had stood and come by her side.
|
|
"Who is it that has come so far in this night's rain?"
|
|
"Madam," the voice, definitely a man's, replied, "I am on my way to
|
|
Dargon City and I have been freezing in this rain for hours."
|
|
"How do I know you are not some Beinisonian trying to conquer my
|
|
homeland?"
|
|
"Madam," the voice replied, "even bandits and thieves have good
|
|
enough sense to come out of the rain on nights like this."
|
|
She held back a laugh, but the man had a point. Her hand strayed to
|
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the latch and then withdrew back again. For some reason she was both
|
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afraid and anxious at the sudden interruption of her quiet rainy night.
|
|
The man outside coughed. "Please madam," he said, "the rain is
|
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picking up."
|
|
She unfastened the latch and opened the door. Surely he was no
|
|
soldier she thought to herself. A drover yes, but for this man to wield
|
|
any weapon on a battlefield would be sheer comedy. Dressed in simple
|
|
woolen clothing and soaked to the bone, he resembled one of the servants
|
|
her father had on his farm. His only weapon was a sturdy cudgel that was
|
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crooked under one arm in order to hold his heavy leather cloak up. Not
|
|
old by any means, but certainly not a man of physical strength.
|
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"Come in," she said, stepping back to let him pass through the
|
|
door.
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"Thank you."
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She shut the door and latched it. Looking at him again in the light
|
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of her fire lent agreement to her first opinion. He would do her no
|
|
harm, especially with the hound watching him closely.
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She turned and walked to the hearth, lifting the lid on her stew
|
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pot and savoring the aroma within.
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"Would you like some stew?"
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"That would be most generous of you," he replied.
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She looked around and found him standing in the middle of the room,
|
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water dripping down his body and making a puddle on the floor. He
|
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glanced down to where she looked and winced.
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"Sorry madam," he said.
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Ilsande looked up at him. He was genuinely sorry. She smiled.
|
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She pointed to the hook at the end of the fireplace and said,
|
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"Place your cloak and shirt there. I will go and get you a shirt and
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some breeches to wear while yours dry."
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He nodded and walked over, placing his cloak on the hook. Ilsande
|
|
replaced the lid and walked into her bedroom. She ran her hand across
|
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the finished door of the dresser that Doth had made. It was strong and
|
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solid like him. She opened the door and grabbed a clean shirt and a pair
|
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of breeches that Doth had worn in the fields. She walked to the doorway
|
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and tossed them onto the floor of the main room.
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"Change into those," she said, "then knock on the door and I will
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serve up the stew."
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"Again I find myself thanking you," the drover said.
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"You can repay me by cleaning up the mess you made on the floor."
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She retreated into the bedroom and sat on the bed. Ilsande reached
|
|
up and twisted at her hair, sending tufts of hair curling at the ends.
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She leaned back on the bed and absently fluffed the pillow next to her
|
|
own.
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"Oh Doth," she said out loud, "if only you had come home to me
|
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tonight."
|
|
"Madam," said the drover, "did you say something?"
|
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"No," Ilsande replied, "I was talking to myself."
|
|
She felt her cheeks grow hot and even after he announced that he
|
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was dressed, she sat still waiting for the flush to go away. She pulled
|
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at her hair and then stood. As she approached the door she could hear
|
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him talking to the hound.
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|
Farrell was not the most particular animal, but he did not usually
|
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warm to strangers so fast.
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Opening the door, she looked out at him. The clothes she had given
|
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him did not fit well and lent nothing to his appearance, but at least he
|
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was no longer dripping on the floor. The flush on his cheeks made her
|
|
well aware of his own discomfort.
|
|
She crossed to the hearth and dished up a hearty helping of stew
|
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for both of them. A bone bobbed to the surface and she scooped it out,
|
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setting it before the place Farrell slept. The hound caught the scent of
|
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the stew and walked over to the hearth. When he caught sight of the bone
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he dropped to the floor and started to gnaw at it. As Ilsande walked to
|
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the table with the bowls, Farrell wagged his tail, thanking her for the
|
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tidbit.
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"It's not much," she said, "but it is better than nothing."
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"Madam," he replied, "tonight even a king would be happy to dine on
|
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such simple fare."
|
|
She gave him a smile. He nodded his head and then proceeded to eat
|
|
the bowl of stew. She let him eat several bites before beginning to
|
|
speak.
|
|
"How goes the war against Beinison?" she asked.
|
|
"Not much of one left," he replied. "Most of their troops have
|
|
either retreated or are being driven across the country in search of
|
|
refuge."
|
|
She felt her heartbeat quicken. "Then what of the men serving
|
|
Baranur?"
|
|
"Most have returned home." He started to speak, but instead filled
|
|
his mouth with another spoonful of stew. She waited until he had
|
|
swallowed and then asked, "But what of the men of Duchy Dargon, can they
|
|
not return home?"
|
|
He must have sensed the fear in her words, for he set the spoon
|
|
down and looked across the table at her. She could tell he was trying to
|
|
decipher her situation, so she told him about Doth.
|
|
"He left so long ago," she said, "and the last word I had from him
|
|
was that the enemy army was planning on making a last stand against
|
|
Magnus."
|
|
"And that they did," said the drover. "They burned the Fifth
|
|
Quarter and rampaged throughout the city, but in the end, the day
|
|
belonged to the soldiers of Magnus."
|
|
He picked up the spoon and sipped at what remained of his stew.
|
|
"Many men died. They say there were walls made of dead soldiers. Fires
|
|
raged across the city and the walls of the city sustained much damage."
|
|
"But still, shouldn't the men of Dargon be returning," she asked.
|
|
He sighed.
|
|
"To my knowledge," he said, "the only men from Duchy Dargon that
|
|
haven't returned are riding with me."
|
|
"You have companions?"
|
|
"Not living companions," he sighed.
|
|
She wished that she had not asked the question. Her eyes turned to
|
|
the shuttered window and the wagon that must be parked somewhere
|
|
outside.
|
|
Tears welled up in her eyes and for a moment the room swam before
|
|
her.
|
|
He laid his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't
|
|
mean to upset you."
|
|
She shook her head and tried to clear her throat. She wanted to ask
|
|
if he knew the names of the men that he carried, but the words would not
|
|
come forth. She gripped the edge of the table and finally pushed herself
|
|
to her feet.
|
|
"I have to know," Ilsande said aloud, but thinking to herself she
|
|
added, if he is dead.
|
|
"Madam there is nothing to see," he started to say, but she bolted
|
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for the door. The hound sat up from where he was chewing on the bone and
|
|
went to her side. Ilsande threw open the door and stood watching the
|
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rain fall and the lightning flash.
|
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She took a step forward and the coolness of the rain startled her.
|
|
Steeling herself for the wetness, she ran out into the rain toward
|
|
the ox-cart and the contents that it held. The two oxen munched
|
|
contentedly on grass and waited patiently for the rain to stop. When she
|
|
reached the side of the cart, the stench overwhelmed her and she had to
|
|
turn her head for a moment.
|
|
When she had mastered her senses once more, she climbed the wheel
|
|
of the wagon and looked down inside. War was indeed a cruel way to die.
|
|
She glanced from body to body but she could find no trace of her beloved
|
|
Doth.
|
|
"Oh Doth," she cried out, "please don't be here. You promised you
|
|
would come home."
|
|
She felt the drover pulling on her and urging her to come away from
|
|
the wagon, but she fought free and waited for the lightning to flash
|
|
again so she could make sure that he was really not among those poor
|
|
souls.
|
|
"Madam, please come down."
|
|
"I must find my husband," she replied. "I must know if I am to be
|
|
alone forever."
|
|
"Tell me his name," the drover asked, "and I shall tell you if he
|
|
is amongst them."
|
|
"Doth," she screamed. It was as much a plea as information.
|
|
Lightning streaked across the sky in answer and she let go of the wagon
|
|
to fall to the muddy earth. "He is not there," she said.
|
|
"No," he replied, "that is not a name that I recognize."
|
|
"Then I still do not know," she cried. Her tears tasted so
|
|
different from the raindrops. Shudders ran through her and for the first
|
|
time since he had left, she felt afraid. Her whole life was Doth. They
|
|
had made this place together and now she realized that he just might
|
|
really be gone forever.
|
|
The mud and the rain felt cold. She tried to stand, but her legs
|
|
would not carry her. The drover picked her up and then carried her back
|
|
to her home. Ilsande felt the heat of the fire. She could feel the love
|
|
that had made her home. In the dim light of the fire and one lamp that
|
|
was lit, she remembered back to when the roof had not been set and Doth
|
|
had chased her into the house and then took her into his arms.
|
|
The drover set her down in one of the chairs at the table and she
|
|
rested her head on the solid table surface.
|
|
"I'm sorry to have upset you," he said. "I think I had best be on
|
|
my way."
|
|
Ilsande panicked. Between the storm and the thought of Doth being
|
|
dead, she suddenly didn't want to spend the night alone.
|
|
"Don't go," she said, raising her head to look at him.
|
|
He ran his hand through his hair. Shuffling his feet on the floor,
|
|
he suddenly became conscious of the fact that once again he had gotten
|
|
the floor dirty. Ilsande looked from the mud at his feet to the mud on
|
|
her dress and legs and started to laugh.
|
|
"Don't worry," she said, "I will wash the floor in the morning."
|
|
He turned as if to leave.
|
|
"Why will you not keep me company through the night?" she asked.
|
|
"These are bad times and I'm not the kind of man who would stay
|
|
past the hospitality offered," he said.
|
|
"I have been alone for so long," she replied, "could you just stay
|
|
and talk to me for a little while longer?"
|
|
"What would you talk about?" he asked.
|
|
"Tell me what the capital looks like, for I have never been there,"
|
|
she said.
|
|
"It is not much to look upon right now, but I remember the pennants
|
|
that flew and the cobbled paths where the children ran and played. It
|
|
will a long time before the scars of the war fade into the background."
|
|
Ilsande winced at the mention of the accursed war. Tears started to
|
|
roll down her cheeks and she felt as if the world was about to come
|
|
crashing down again. She heard the shuffle of feet as the drover made to
|
|
leave.
|
|
"Please don't go," she said.
|
|
"My animals need tending to and my cargo needs to be returned
|
|
home," he replied.
|
|
"But the rain has not let up," Ilsande said.
|
|
"I shouldn't have stopped."
|
|
With that he turned and walked out of the door. Lightning flashed
|
|
and Ilsande leapt to her feet. Heart pumping, she opened the door and
|
|
ran out into the rain. The drover had reached his wagon and was
|
|
preparing to step up onto the seat.
|
|
"Please don't go," she cried out. The rain started to pour down and
|
|
her dress was getting totally soaked. "Stay with me until the storm
|
|
passes."
|
|
He looked down at her and she could see that he was not without
|
|
some fear of his own. They both jumped when lightning struck nearby.
|
|
Seeing that he would not climb down, Ilsande climbed up to the seat and
|
|
clung to him. He started to push her away and then he bent his head
|
|
towards hers. Ilsande felt the heat rising within her and could not stop
|
|
herself from arching herself toward him. In the rain and the darkness
|
|
their lips met and the fire was unleashed.
|
|
Ilsande wrapped her arms even tighter around him. He returned hers
|
|
with an intensity of his own. Suddenly the night sky was full of light.
|
|
The oxen stirred restlessly. He released himself from her, stepped to
|
|
the ground and then pulled her from the wagon.
|
|
"I'm not much to look at," he said.
|
|
"Don't let me be alone," she said, "for I've been that way far too
|
|
long."
|
|
In the rain they held each other until the fire built to a peak.
|
|
Forgetting about the mud and the oxen, they found a place to lay
|
|
and she let him take her. After they had quenched the fires within them,
|
|
they let the rain wash them free of the mud.
|
|
She grabbed their clothes and led him back to her cabin. After she
|
|
had set the clothes by the fire to dry, he took her in his arms again.
|
|
She lead him to her bed and they made love until she fell asleep in his
|
|
arms. Soft hair lay across his arm and he caressed it softly, then
|
|
cursed his actions.
|
|
Knowing he could not sleep, he left her side, dressing in the dim
|
|
firelight. When she awoke in the morning, the sun was shining, the rain
|
|
was gone, and not a sign of the man was to be found. When she realized
|
|
that he was truly gone, she broke down and cried.
|
|
"What have I done?" she cried. "Oh, my love, please forgive me."
|
|
|
|
Doth woke that same morning and looked out over the city of Magnus.
|
|
People were working again, oblivious of the storm from the night before.
|
|
He checked his sack and placed it over his shoulder. Soldiers from
|
|
his unit were already leaving, heading back to their homes. He saw Mefin
|
|
waiting under a tree and signaled to him. Mefin sauntered over and they
|
|
started for Dargon.
|
|
"Methinks that I shall miss the harlots of the war camp," said
|
|
Mefin.
|
|
Doth pounded his friend on the shoulder. "I think that I can not
|
|
wait to get back home."
|
|
"Well," replied Mefin, "I shall have to meet this beauty that has
|
|
caused you to be so celibate. Were I from Westbrook, I think that I
|
|
should follow you anyway, just to meet this prize of yours."
|
|
Doth nodded and they started home. It would be weeks before they
|
|
came to the lands of Clifton Dargon, but already Doth knew that it would
|
|
be a sight for his battle weary eyes. He pictured his tiny valley and
|
|
the woman with whom he shared his heart.
|
|
|
|
Doth rounded the curve in the path and looked out over the valley
|
|
that was his home. It had taken over a month to get home. Now, looking
|
|
at the green pastures, he knew it was worth it. He could see the
|
|
tendrils of smoke that must be coming from his home and imagined the
|
|
meal that was cooking over that fire. Mefin clapped him on the shoulder
|
|
and they made their way down the road. When they got to the little stone
|
|
house, Doth stood in front of it taking in every detail. The roof needed
|
|
patching, but it could wait a little longer. The unfinished wall he had
|
|
left to go to war still stood. The pile of stones he had sorted lay
|
|
nearby and he walked over to it and placed a few into place. Mefin came
|
|
to where he worked and asked, "Why are you doing this?"
|
|
"I wanted to feel what it was like to do honest work again," Doth
|
|
replied, "I had thought that I had forgotten what it would feel like."
|
|
"Who is it?"
|
|
It was the voice of a woman. Doth stood and dropped the stone he
|
|
was about to put in place.
|
|
"I have nothing but food," came Ilsande's voice.
|
|
"Ilsande," said Doth, "it is I, my love." Silence followed his
|
|
announcement and then Ilsande rounded the corner and flung herself into
|
|
his arms. Mefin stood by waiting for an introduction, but the couple was
|
|
lost in the arms of the other. Knowing that he was intruding on their
|
|
reunion, he walked away.
|
|
Tears of joy streamed down their cheeks and Ilsande clung to Doth.
|
|
He stroked her hair and whispered in her ear not to cry. When she would
|
|
not stop, he lifted her in his arms. He carried Ilsande inside the hut
|
|
and set her down. She trembled at his touch and stared up into his eyes.
|
|
She spoke, barely making any sound, "I thought you had been
|
|
killed."
|
|
"I promised you before I left that I would return," he replied. She
|
|
nodded and started to cry again. "What is the matter?" he asked. She
|
|
shook her head and refused to speak. Just then Mefin knocked.
|
|
"May I come in?", Mefin asked.
|
|
"Ilsande," said Doth, "I want you to meet Mefin." The other man
|
|
bowed low and blushed at his intrusion.
|
|
"Pardon me," Mefin said, "I wanted to know if I should continue on
|
|
to Dargon or make plans to help you finish your home."
|
|
Doth scratched his head, still puzzled by Ilsande's strange
|
|
behavior.
|
|
"No, please stay for a while."
|
|
"Yes," added Ilsande, "please stay. You are my husband's guest and
|
|
I would have you share a meal with us."
|
|
"He will do more than that my dear," said Doth. "Mefin and I are
|
|
going into business together."
|
|
While Ilsande tended the dinner, Mefin and Doth recounted their
|
|
adventures fighting the Beinisons and their visit to the castle of the
|
|
king. On they talked through dinner and long into the night. Ilsande
|
|
listened to all their tales with a smile, but Doth could not but help
|
|
feeling uneasy. There was something that he could not quite place his
|
|
finger on.
|
|
After finishing a tale of their escape from the burning Fifth
|
|
Quarter, Mefin stood. "I have kept you well into the night," he said,
|
|
"and in the morning we shall all feel it. Lady Ilsande, it was a
|
|
pleasure to finally meet Doth's goddess." He winked at the reddening man
|
|
and made his way to the door. "I hope that your dogs do not mind me
|
|
keeping them company tonight, for I shall bay in my sleep I fear."
|
|
Ilsande rose and brought back a blanket from the bed. "Thank you
|
|
for seeing my husband home safely," she said and kissed his cheek. Mefin
|
|
went red and slipped out the door, only to return and get his blanket.
|
|
Ilsande turned to Doth. "My love," she said quietly, "there is something
|
|
I must tell you."
|
|
"What is it my love?" he replied.
|
|
She walked to where he sat and kneeled at his feet. Her long hair
|
|
cascaded over her shoulders and covered his legs. She lay her head on
|
|
his thigh and Doth heard her start to cry.
|
|
"All night long you have been uneasy," he said. "What is wrong?"
|
|
"I feared you would never return."
|
|
He laughed. "I told you I would return."
|
|
"But the war has been over for so long."
|
|
"There was much to do in Magnus. We had to shore up walls and
|
|
rebuild barracks."
|
|
"You could have sent word!"
|
|
He listened to the distress in her voice and it frightened him. She
|
|
was not a frail woman, but he had never thought she would be so upset.
|
|
"I was very busy. I concentrated on my work, so that I might get it
|
|
done all the faster."
|
|
"So busy that the woman who loved you never entered your mind," she
|
|
asked.
|
|
"You were constantly in my thoughts. I dreamed of being in your
|
|
arms."
|
|
"Yet you could not let me know you were alive." She stood and
|
|
picked up a plate from the table, wiping it with her apron.
|
|
"I am so sorry," he said softly.
|
|
Her tears fell like raindrops and she sobbed uncontrollably. "I
|
|
have done more wrong than you," she said.
|
|
He turned and looked at her. She turned away from him and walked to
|
|
their bed.
|
|
"I am pregnant," she said.
|
|
Doth laughed. He slapped his legs and stomped his feet. "Oh really,
|
|
and who is the father," he mocked her. She stopped wiping the plate and
|
|
used her apron to wipe away her tears.
|
|
"Last month a storm brought a traveler to my door. He made it seem
|
|
as if the war was but a memory." She paused and turned to face him and
|
|
she could see that his smile was no more. "I thought you dead."
|
|
She watched his hands tremble and knew that he was already
|
|
picturing the event.
|
|
"It is not how you think it. All those months of being alone and
|
|
the thought of you being dead made me feel so helpless. I had worried
|
|
for weeks when he showed up. He was the first person I had seen since
|
|
winter. Even as he ate I knew that I did not want to face the night
|
|
alone, knowing that you lay dead on that distant battlefield. I did not
|
|
mean for it to go so far, just for him to hold me until I felt better.
|
|
But when he took me in his arms. Oh Doth I am so sorry, please forgive
|
|
me. I could not help myself"
|
|
His head stopped shaking and he stared at her. Ilsande stood
|
|
waiting for him to erupt, but Doth was silent. She stopped crying and
|
|
went to him.
|
|
Doth spoke, "What you say is true?"
|
|
She replied, "Oh how I wish it were not, but I can feel the
|
|
baby ..."
|
|
"Stop," he said, "I do not wish to hear you talk about it."
|
|
"I have prayed for an answer, but the gods will have nothing to do
|
|
with me," she sobbed.
|
|
"The gods will have turned their backs on you expecting me to do
|
|
the same," he replied. "I should kill you for this, so that they may not
|
|
be angered. What would you expect me to say? No, even more important,
|
|
why are you even here? You should have left and saved some of my pride."
|
|
"I'm so sorry," was all she could say.
|
|
He was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke again, she knew
|
|
that his heart had been broken. He reached into a cabinet and pulled his
|
|
heavy leather gloves from it. Pulling them on, he made his way to the
|
|
door. He stopped and turned back to her.
|
|
"I made a vow," he said. "I made a vow to love you and only you. A
|
|
vow for life."
|
|
"I remember," she replied quietly.
|
|
His big hands gripped the door and she was afraid that he would
|
|
leave marks upon it. His shock had given way to anger. "You made that
|
|
same vow," he said. "Or did you?"
|
|
Ilsande choked on her words, knowing that he was angry. "How can
|
|
you ask me that?"
|
|
"How? You carry another man's child and you ask me how. I was gone
|
|
but a year maybe and yet you cannot wait to bed the very next sot who
|
|
says a kind word to you." He paused. "I will ask you this and more."
|
|
"I have no place to argue this."
|
|
"Oh Ilsande say it isn't true."
|
|
"You know I cannot," she answered.
|
|
"Then it has all been for nothing," he said. "All those nights of
|
|
being tired of fighting and wanting to let them overrun us, so I would
|
|
not have to feel so tired any more. It was for nothing, that I stayed
|
|
alive."
|
|
"I still love you," she said and tried to touch him. "I want you to
|
|
love me, but I feel as if your love for me has died." She walked to him
|
|
and placed her hands on his chest. "Say that you still love me."
|
|
"Leave me be," he said. She watched as he turned to the darkness
|
|
and entered it. His words burned her heart and left her cold. She knew
|
|
deep down that her love for Doth was stronger than she had ever felt it.
|
|
But Doth; he would not care.
|
|
Mefin woke to the affectionate licks of a shaggy herd dog. The sun
|
|
shone down into the barn. The light letting him know it was well past
|
|
time to break his fast. Shooing away the dogs, he pulled on his boots
|
|
and reached for his sword. It took him a moment to realize that he no
|
|
longer wore it, then he stood and walked from the barn. His first sight
|
|
was that of Doth already toiling away at the wall. By the look of
|
|
things, the man had stayed up all night erecting the wall.
|
|
"Good day," spoke Mefin and Doth glanced up from his work.
|
|
"We leave for Dargon in the morning," was Doth's reply.
|
|
"So soon?" Mefin asked. "I was just getting used to the fresh
|
|
country breezes."
|
|
Doth continued placing the stones and strengthening the wall.
|
|
"Then stay," Doth snarled, "I shall go without you." Mefin stepped
|
|
back and looked his friend. His hands were raw and bloodied.
|
|
"What is wrong," asked Mefin, "did a courier come for us?"
|
|
"No!"
|
|
"Then what is it that drives you from home after only one night in
|
|
the arms of your love?"
|
|
"Mefin," replied Doth, "either help me with this wall or go get
|
|
something to eat, but do not question me. You are not bound to me. It is
|
|
only our friendship that makes us business partners."
|
|
"Very well, I will get something to eat." He walked away confused,
|
|
hoping that Ilsande might shed some light on the bad humor that his
|
|
friend displayed. When he walked in the door, he could tell that he
|
|
would receive little to shed light on his dilemma. Ilsande sat facing
|
|
the hearth, watching the ashes of last night's fire. "Good morning," he
|
|
spoke. "I was not aware of how used to hearing the bells I was, until I
|
|
overslept this morning." He picked up a knife off the table and sliced a
|
|
piece of meat from the leg sitting on the table.
|
|
"Doth has been out there all night," she replied.
|
|
"What? Did he not spend his first night home with you?" asked
|
|
Mefin, shocked.
|
|
"He would not touch me." She sighed and stood. When she turned to
|
|
him, he could see that she had spent all night listening to her husband
|
|
fill in the holes in the wall. Tears had turned her eyes red and her
|
|
face was swollen from crying. "I have some fresh bread, if you would
|
|
have some."
|
|
"Many thanks," said Mefin. "Why is it that you cry and Doth builds
|
|
on the night of his homecoming?"
|
|
He waited for an answer but it did not come. Though the bread was
|
|
soft and moist, Mefin choked it down as if were a week old and left out
|
|
in the sun. He found he had no words of comfort and left her standing by
|
|
her bed. He strode back to where Doth stood and angrily pushed the other
|
|
man.
|
|
"Fool," said Mefin, "has the war rattled your thick skull after
|
|
all. Your beloved stands inside crying, sobbing with every stone you
|
|
slam down, yet you stand out here as if you are shoring the walls of
|
|
Magnus." Doth straightened and glared at Mefin, then shrugged and
|
|
returned to his work. Mefin, though smaller by far than Doth, forced the
|
|
man to look at him.
|
|
"I stand here asking you for reasoning and you can not even answer
|
|
me," said Mefin.
|
|
Doth sighed, "Ask Ilsande what is the matter."
|
|
"I did ask her," replied Mefin, "and she was even more silent than
|
|
you. You are not dumb; so quit acting like the rocks you hold and talk
|
|
to me."
|
|
Doth shrugged his shoulders.
|
|
"I hope you do not think that you will be whisking me away once we
|
|
get to Dargon," replied Mefin, "I intend to show my woman just how much
|
|
I have missed her and that may take days." Mefin smiled, but it quickly
|
|
left his face as Doth had dropped the stone he was positioning and
|
|
glared at his friend.
|
|
"I care not how long we are in Dargon," snarled Doth, "just get
|
|
ready to leave."
|
|
"By Stevene's sacred pizzle," shouted Mefin, "has everyone but the
|
|
dogs and I gone mad? I will not travel anywhere with you Doth. I go to
|
|
Dargon alone."
|
|
"Suit yourself," said Doth.
|
|
"Have you become crazed overnight and why do you treat me this
|
|
way," asked Mefin, "I have stood with you through the blackest of bells
|
|
and faced horrors with you. What is it that makes you thus?"
|
|
"Go away Mefin," came Doth's reply.
|
|
|
|
Mefin sat in the tavern sipping his ale and spinning tales of the
|
|
defeated army of the empire. An enthralled guest ordered another round
|
|
and Mefin nodded in appreciation. The afternoon faded into night and
|
|
still he sat at the tavern. He had received a message and it said to
|
|
wait here, but the cryptic note shed no light on his impending guest.
|
|
Finally he shrugged his shoulders and braced himself to stand.
|
|
Coins filled his pockets and men slumped over his table, indicating that
|
|
the storytelling had been profitable.
|
|
"Sit back down," came a voice from the door. Mefin turned to see
|
|
who spoke and regarded the man in the door. The man had grown since they
|
|
parted a month before and Mefin guessed that the stone hut must be a
|
|
palace by now.
|
|
"I would not speak to me that way," replied Mefin, "I am a hero of
|
|
the army of Baranur and I shall slay you on the spot."
|
|
"You would sooner piss on the floor than take me down," said Doth.
|
|
The two men laughed and embraced. "I have missed your company, oh silver
|
|
tongue."
|
|
Mefin shrugged his shoulders. "I knew you would."
|
|
Doth let him go and the two regarded each other.
|
|
"I have much to apologize for," said Doth, "and it is hard for me
|
|
to say the words."
|
|
"I often forget my place in the world," interjected Mefin.
|
|
"I am no lord or duke," said Doth, "merely a herder. I should not
|
|
have given you orders."
|
|
"I spoiled your dogs," countered Mefin with a wink. "Though that
|
|
one bitch should either have littered or found another stud."
|
|
Doth winced and Mefin got serious.
|
|
"Sit down."
|
|
Mefin motioned to the barkeep and he dutifully made his way from
|
|
behind the bar to the table.
|
|
"Would you give us some room to talk?" asked Mefin.
|
|
The barkeep relocated the sleeping patrons and brought a round for
|
|
the two friends. "What brings you to Dargon?" asked Mefin.
|
|
"I needed advice," Doth answered between gulps of ale.
|
|
"I have answers to all kinds of questions," replied Mefin
|
|
cheerfully.
|
|
Doth looked around and leaned close to Mefin before he spoke.
|
|
"Ilsande is pregnant," he said.
|
|
"Congratulations," replied Mefin. The look in Doth's eyes stole the
|
|
grin from his face. He placed a hand on the big man's shoulder and
|
|
patted him. "You are ready for children. In fact, I think you shall make
|
|
a good father."
|
|
"The child is not mine." While Mefin sat dumbfounded, Doth
|
|
unraveled his tale and how Ilsande came to be pregnant. When Doth was
|
|
done, Mefin sat in silence, not even moving when the barkeep announced
|
|
that he would like to go to bed. Mefin finally glanced up at his friend.
|
|
"I do not know what to say," Mefin said.
|
|
"Then I have no other choice," came Doth's reply.
|
|
"No other choice," Mefin replied absentmindedly. "What do you
|
|
mean?"
|
|
Doth explained how he had spent the day since Mefin left working on
|
|
the house. The new room was complete and Doth had started on another
|
|
foundation for the new barn. Yet he and Ilsande had never spoken. Both
|
|
managed to keep up with their daily activities, but neither would
|
|
acknowledge the other. Mefin thought of Ilsande and her beautiful eyes,
|
|
probably swollen even now from crying.
|
|
"I have to find the man who got her pregnant and make him take her
|
|
in," said Doth.
|
|
"You do not mean that?"
|
|
Doth looked at his friend, "What do you suggest? That I live with
|
|
her after she has bedded another man?"
|
|
"She thought you dead," argued Mefin, "had you been so, would she
|
|
have been wrong."
|
|
"Yes. She is my wife and I promised to return," answered Doth.
|
|
"Yes, and all of the men who left Dargon made such promises," said
|
|
Mefin, "I buried them with our other comrades."
|
|
"I did return."
|
|
"You say that the man told her that the war was over," Mefin said.
|
|
"She was already afraid that you would not return. His words only added
|
|
to her distress. I think that she was alone far too long."
|
|
"What do you mean?" asked Doth. "I am not to blame for this. How
|
|
could I have known that the war would drag on for so long?"
|
|
"You said it yourself, her only contact was with passersby. I would
|
|
have taken their word for it too, that the war was over. Even if the man
|
|
had deceived her, how would she know otherwise?" Mefin's words struck
|
|
Doth like a hammer. The big man shook and whimpered, until at last he
|
|
broke down crying.
|
|
"I love her still," sobbed Doth.
|
|
"She deserves your love, for it is true."
|
|
"But she carries another man's child!" Doth stated.
|
|
"No one but you, I and Ilsande must ever know this," replied Mefin.
|
|
"What if he is different than I?" asked Doth. "What if he is short
|
|
or slim like a blade of grass?"
|
|
Mefin thought for a moment. "I do not know of these things, but my
|
|
brother and I come from the same sire, and yet he is as stout as you
|
|
are. Look at me, I am nothing like my brother."
|
|
"That you are not," said Doth, smiling for the first time.
|
|
"I think that you should not concentrate on the child, but on your
|
|
love for your wife. You are a good man and any child born to Ilsande
|
|
would bring you much joy. Look beyond the stormy night and try to
|
|
understand what Ilsande must have felt, to lie with a stranger. Look
|
|
into your own heart and see if you have the kindness to raise a child
|
|
with strength and love, knowing these things." Mefin stopped and tossed
|
|
back his mug.
|
|
"But do not wait until the time of child's birth is upon you, you
|
|
must decide soon."
|
|
Doth nodded and Mefin turned the talk to other events. Doth spoke
|
|
of how the farm was returning to its fine shape. Mefin spoke of the
|
|
buyers he had secured on his word of good hides and of the things that a
|
|
merchant could afford to take home to his stone hut. It was late into
|
|
the night when they let the barkeep shut his door. Mefin watched Doth as
|
|
he walked down the street. A heavy burden had been placed on the man's
|
|
shoulders, but they were broad and strong. Already the spring was
|
|
returning to Doth's step as he made his way down the darkened streets of
|
|
Dargon.
|
|
Doth followed Mefin to his rented room and the two men slept
|
|
peacefully for the first time since parting. Mefin awoke in the early
|
|
morning and glanced over at his friend. Doth still slumbered, but he
|
|
talked in his sleep and voiced his fears to the people in his dreams.
|
|
Mefin held his head and cried. Not because of the baby, but because he
|
|
knew that for all of his encouragement and talk, he could have never
|
|
stayed with a woman bearing the child of another man. Doth would though,
|
|
and he would hold his head high while doing it.
|
|
In the last few moments before the sun rose, Mefin brushed away his
|
|
tears and turned away from the rising sun. When Doth awoke he would take
|
|
the man to every bazaar, every shop, until he was loaded down with gifts
|
|
and trinkets for Ilsande. By now the poor flower probably feared the
|
|
worst for her husband. Jailed or dead she doubtless imagined him, her
|
|
day spent watching for the signs of someone coming from the city to
|
|
deposit his corpse at her feet.
|
|
|
|
It was indeed true, for when Doth came out of the trees Ilsande
|
|
leapt from the shade and ran crying to her husband. Doth, seeing her
|
|
distress, dropped his pack and swept her up into his arms. She held him
|
|
close and wet his chest with her tears. He carried her to the shade and
|
|
sat her down. She clung to him, fearing that he had come back only to
|
|
say good-bye.
|
|
"Please, Ilsande," Doth whispered, "I must retrieve my pack before
|
|
things get broken." She let him go and watched as he strode to his pack
|
|
and returned quickly. How strong he was she thought. Kind and gentle,
|
|
never quick to anger, but now with her admitted liaison he had become
|
|
sour to her. Fresh tears rolled down her chin at the thought of the pain
|
|
she had caused him. He would never speak of it, she knew, but it would
|
|
be there.
|
|
"Ilsande," Doth started, "I found what I was looking for in Dargon.
|
|
It is all very clear to me now. I have brought some things back from my
|
|
trip." She nodded and watched as he pulled them from his overstuffed
|
|
pack. When she first saw the handle, she was stunned. She wiped away the
|
|
tears and stared at what Doth held. A pan, He had made the trip to
|
|
Dargon city for a pan!
|
|
"What is that?" she asked.
|
|
"It is a gift," Doth chuckled, "and there are more." He pulled
|
|
object after object from his pack, stopping only to watch Ilsande's
|
|
face.
|
|
"Mefin wanted me to give you this," he said softly. He pulled the
|
|
blanket from out of the pack and handed it to Ilsande. She touched it
|
|
and cradled the tiny blanket in her arms.
|
|
"I did not go to Dargon for trinkets, Ilsande."
|
|
"I know," was her reply.
|
|
"I went to find the man who made you this way and convince him to
|
|
take you back to his home," Doth spoke. She heard the hurt in those
|
|
words and more tears welled up inside her. She started to speak, but he
|
|
went on.
|
|
"I could not find this man, but I did find Mefin. I urged him to
|
|
help me and he did." She shivered at the thought of Doth finding the
|
|
poor trader, then shivered again at the thought of his turning her over
|
|
to the man.
|
|
"Doth, I ..." she started, but he cut her off.
|
|
"Ilsande, I love you with all of my heart." Doth drew pictures in
|
|
the dirt as he spoke, never looking up. "I know that the war separated
|
|
us and made thoughts of each other seem like dreams. There were times
|
|
when I felt as if there had been no other life, just a constant battle,
|
|
but I would dream of you all the same." He looked up and looked into her
|
|
teary eyes. "I am not a general. I never have been much of a thinker,
|
|
but my thoughts have always been my own. When I say this to you, I want
|
|
you to know that it comes from my heart, for no other place could make
|
|
such a decision and be true."
|
|
Ilsande could stand it no longer. Tears streamed down her face and
|
|
she knew that her love had died in his heart. Sobs wracked her body and
|
|
Doth stood not wanting to see her cry.
|
|
"I have some work to do," he said.
|
|
She nodded and gathered her gifts to her. New pans and pots, new
|
|
cloth for clothes, a new blanket for the baby, and spices that she had
|
|
been wanting. He had given her all of this so that she might take it to
|
|
her new home with the man on the ox-cart. She broke down, wailing and
|
|
crying, seeing no end to her misery.
|
|
"Ilsande," Doth spoke, "I have to go and hitch up the horses, so go
|
|
and get some things for us to travel to Dargon. We don't have much
|
|
time."
|
|
She nodded dumbly and he walked to the barn. From inside the house,
|
|
she could hear him whistling as he worked the horses. She sighed to keep
|
|
from crying. Doth had relieved himself of this burden. He had done more
|
|
than she expected. He could have killed her or just put her out with
|
|
nothing, but instead he had given her things that she would need to
|
|
start a new life. Oh how she loved him, his heart spilling over with
|
|
goodness even with this great barrier thrust between them.
|
|
"Ilsande."
|
|
She jumped at the sound of his voice. Turning so he would not see
|
|
her shake, she nodded her head. "I am almost ready." He nodded and
|
|
stepped back through the door. She gathered a few things and bound her
|
|
other dress into the blanket holding her meager belongings. She glanced
|
|
at the mantle. There, over the center of the fireplace set the wooden
|
|
figurine Doth had carved and given her, when he asked her to marry. He
|
|
would not want it she told herself. She packed it among her other
|
|
belongings. She took one last look at their little home and walked
|
|
through the door, biting her lip not to cry.
|
|
Doth stood by the wagon, the hides of his latest kills, stacked
|
|
high in the wagon bed. The leather would bring him a good price, she
|
|
thought. In time he might become wealthy enough to afford some help
|
|
around the farm.
|
|
"Ilsande," Doth spoke.
|
|
"Yes, Doth," she replied.
|
|
"Forgive me," he said.
|
|
"You have done nothing my love. I understand that you cannot live
|
|
with me any more."
|
|
Doth put his hand on her shoulder. "No, that is what I apologize
|
|
for. I meant to tell you that I had made my decision, but I held off and
|
|
let you suffer while I loaded the wagon."
|
|
"I have suffered since the day you came home."
|
|
"But I intend to make that stop," said Doth. "Ilsande, I love you
|
|
more than life itself. Your love is what drove me to fight again and
|
|
again and not let an invader strike me down. I chose to enclose you with
|
|
my love, when I should not have."
|
|
Ilsande looked into the eyes of her husband. Tears hung there, but
|
|
not a sign of anger showed on his face. She asked him, "What are you
|
|
saying?"
|
|
"Forgive me, I do not have the words to make you understand. Only
|
|
know this. I will always be your husband, that you cannot change.
|
|
Whatever children you bring into this world are mine. I do this not out
|
|
of pride, but for love. I promise you that I will always cherish the
|
|
ground you walk upon."
|
|
"What of this child?" she asked.
|
|
"It will be as if it were my own. I will give this child my heart,
|
|
just as I give it to you. When I feel myself faltering and letting anger
|
|
creep up upon me, I will remember that its hand will seek mine for
|
|
comfort and its smile will reflect my joy. We will not be of blood, but
|
|
we will share the same soul."
|
|
She placed her hand upon his and kissed him gently. She wanted him
|
|
so, but now was not the time for passion. She craved his tender touch.
|
|
"Hold me," she said.
|
|
"Forever," he replied.
|
|
They held each other and cried. Each one spoke words of love and of
|
|
faith. Finally Doth reached up and pulled her from the wagon.
|
|
"Where are we going?" she asked.
|
|
"I never did get to properly welcome myself home," he smiled.
|
|
"What about the horses?" she asked.
|
|
"They will be fine."
|
|
He carried her onto the bed and held her to him. They made love
|
|
until they cried, then laughed, finally feeling as one again. Ilsande
|
|
lay back on the bed, her hair cascading around her softly. Doth softly
|
|
kissed her on the stomach. Ilsande felt silly, but she thought that Doth
|
|
was trying to communicate with the life inside her. Each kiss was as if
|
|
to say, child you are loved by two people. Finally she interrupted him.
|
|
"I have but one other question then," she said.
|
|
"And that is," he replied.
|
|
"Why are we going to Dargon?"
|
|
"Why to sell these hides and bring home a bed. Mefin has a friend
|
|
who is going to make us a bed for the new room."
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|
"That is all?"
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|
"Well I do have to make some final choices on how I want the
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warehouse set up and there is the matter of choosing a home in Dargon
|
|
city."
|
|
"What?"
|
|
"Mefin has already secured contracts with merchants for our hides.
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|
There is no reason for us both to live in this shack. I will stay here
|
|
while I gather the hides and then make the trip to Dargon to stay with
|
|
you for a while."
|
|
"No," she said.
|
|
"What do you mean?"
|
|
"I want to live here with you, and never be apart again."
|
|
"But we can have a fine home in the city ..."
|
|
"It does not matter. Here is our home and if you love me, here is
|
|
where we will stay."
|
|
He smiled down at her. She pointed her finger at him and he
|
|
grinned. She knew Mefin would be much happier with Doth staying on the
|
|
farm and overseeing the work. She too wanted this to be the birthplace
|
|
of their children, all of them. She pulled Doth to her and he tugged
|
|
playfully at her hair.
|
|
"We need to be leaving," he said.
|
|
"I know," Ilsande replied, "but I wanted you to show me how much
|
|
you loved me again."
|
|
"I'm tired," he said through a smile.
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|
"Too bad!"
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|
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========================================================================
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