Chapter 3
I gathered my stuff together and a
small bag of gold and placed them in my magical traveling bag that is always by
my side. I decided I needed to see if
there was some connection between the attacks on the town and mine. Who the raiders took and if there was some
connection I could make, however feeble it might be, some lead to send me in
one direction. I crossed the bridge over
the Sallenwhine, a winding tributary to the Thyme river. The waters reflected nothing, Hestium was
full behind me so there was light to see by, but Drogath would be rising late
tonight. The light of Hestium was enough
to blot out most the starlight and the night sky had a blueish cast to it like
the last glows of twilight. The water
beneath me barely gurgled as the current carried it past the bridge posts,
spaced wide enough for most river craft.
The far side of the river with the town gate blocking the way. The guards that manned it would be extra
vigilant after the attack the previous night, and they might not let travelers
in. They would let her in.
“Hold Traveller! The gates are closed this night,” they said
as the strain eased on tack of my horse and the creaky wheels of my cart
stopped.
“Ease your mind, Marcus, It is
<insert name here> from the inn across the river. I am here with food and aid for this side of
the river.” It was true the supplies I
had would be better used in a functioning inn and were not suitable for
travelling as I was not sure where the trail might lie. I removed the hood of my cloak as the
viewport was pushed aside and bright light shone through. The bar was noisily removed, and the gate
opened wide enough to accommodate the cart.
I tried to get through and past them as quickly as possible with as
little chatter for fear that my stony expression would crumble. I needed not to
have worried. “What happened here last
night?”
The guards, Marcus and his fellow
were eager to be the bearer of the most exciting news that had happened in town
in their lifetime, even if it were all grim, “The town was attacked by raiders
around midnight last night. They
probably crept over the palisade and into the town and attacked the granary and
set it on fire! Then they left town and
attacked a few of the outside homesteads and took captives before fleeing the
watch.” The other beside Marcus nodded
with every pronouncement. If it were
raiders or bandits, then this would be over in a few days or weeks and I would
have my children back and I could focus on rebuilding my life, but I was not
sure, raiders sounded too simple. I
thanked them and passed through into town.
I passed through the streets
winding along the main fare my destination was an apothecary whom I was friends
with, who had children the same age as my own, but I took a route that headed
past the granary that got burned. The
granary was tall and two stories, like only a few in this part of town. the building was gutted and burned most
completely. The door was chopped and
hacked to pieces beside the wall knocked off its hinges. The inner side burnt badly, and the
complicated lock melted. There was a
bucket brigade still looking for embers to stamp out in the destroyed
building. I could tell just from this I
would be on the road for a much longer time.
If I were a raider looking for food,
I would have knocked the lock off the door and if a fire started, it would be
accidental like a knocked over lamp, and I would not take the time to lock the
door or even shut it. The raiders did
not open the door, they probably lit the building through a upper window, and
they burned the building to cover up something that was done elsewhere. I came upon the Apothecary and found that
there were signs of mourning from within—the windows were covered with black
cloth. The door had been broken down,
torn off its hinges. The door was held
in place by gravity and particular care.
There was a light within, so I knocked.
Janice and Cameron had three children, one a girl, Haliey, Mora’s age
and a boy, Johan, Palo and Pater’s age and newborn. I hoped for the best as the door was pushed
aside.
Cameron was uncommonly tall and
barrel chested friendly with wide strong arms, but the person before me was
deflated and vacant. he looked up into
my eyes and a felt the worst had come true.
I hugged him and pushed my self past him, there was a stain of fresh
blood on the porch step. Janice was
holding her newborn in swaddling cloth rocking him as gently. Her eyes and cheeks were painted with the
signs of constant crying and he beautiful hair, usually in tresses was free and
matted. I could tell by the sounds of
the house that we were the only people left in the house. “My three have been taken,” I spoke silently,
but the utterance broke the silence but not the trance that Janice was in.
Cameron whose voice wavered as he
spoke, “They took Johan and Haliey. But
they left Charlie on the doorstep when they left.” I unpacked my lute from over my shoulder and
set up a gentle melody, one that would break the mood that was upon this family
and to put the troubles that had be visited upon them behind them for a
time. Sleep would not solve this problem,
but it would begin the healing. I put
gentle words to the music I played to add soothing to them all and as I played,
Janice and Cameron fell into gentle repose.
I played for a minute more hoping that their dreams would be
untroubled. I stopped and retrieved the
dead child from its mother’s arms to its bassinette. Standing quietly, I went to the doorway, made
an arcane gesture, and hummed a bar under my breath, leaving the step
clean. I would clearly be after these
raiders a good long time. Who stops to
slit a baby’s throat and leave them on the doorstep?
A special sort cuts a baby’s
throat, I blessed them twice laughs Drogath
I wandered to the Commons and unhitched
my horse and brush him down. With his
lead on the ground, he knows that he should not stay far. I tie a nose bag around him and leave him to
secure my cart, it is locked and blocked before I lay blanket beneath it and
catch some rest.
In the morning I look to the three
inns around the Commons, and I see all are open. The Tipsy Cow is my favourite, it is the one
most like my own. They have four
children, three are older than Mora and one is younger. As inns go it is small and has room for about
five, but the meals are better even if the menu is reduced, “If you want to
eat, you get the same Fair as my Husband makes for the family.” That is an
ideal I can get behind. The Iron Cross
is a stone building with three stories.
It is one of the older buildings in town and has a slate tile roof. This is the place that the Earl of East
stayed at a dozen years ago when he toured the countryside. The common room is big, but the meals are
expensive too. The third inn was
uncommonly busy and was mostly known as a drinking establishment, politely it
was known as such, The Pig in the Friar.
The sign out front was a pig dressed as a Friar and it always attracted
a less savoury crowd. It was not a true
inn, but it did charge those that passed out in the common room for their
night’s stay, so it was an inn of sorts.
I liked the Tipsy Cow, so I went there first.
There were a few day labourers that
lived in the town but worked on the farms outside. As such if I was going to learn any good news
on what happened outside the walls, it was going to be here. The Innkeeper noticed me right away and approached
my table right way with a large platter of breakfast foods. “I heard about the House of Cyr Astra and the
loss of your children,” she said as she set the platter down. “From one barmaster to another, I feel your
loss and as a mother, I ask you what you need.”
Jessica was always direct to the point of rudeness, but I felt the
kindness underneath her words. She
preferred everyone were upfront with what they were looking for and made sure
her patrons knew what she preferred. The
bar closed three hours after sunset and tenants were expected to be in their
rooms by four when she barred the front doors and opening at sunrise.
The platter was acknowledgement
that I had not had time to eat yesterday and would not find time to eat anytime
soon. You look into her eyes, “I need to
know what happened and to whom and I need to know where they went.”
“They stole into town by way of the
waterfront and attacked the Granary. On
the way they randomly a hit a few homes on the way taking any children that
were there before leaving through by the South road wall, the guards distracted
by the fire. They then hit five of the
farms on the way. Matt Smith’s place,
Terrance Chandler’s, Harold Potter’s, Justin Cooper, and the old Rider
place. In town it was the Apothecary,
the Glazier and the Notary. All told
five dead including Janice’s babe.” She paused as I took this all in. “As I
said a straight line from the waterfront to the South gate through the
granary. Precise attack, except that
their main target was not well done, the Granary. Twenty-one children taken, six in and fifteen
out, including yours.”
“If not for the Granary and the
Notary they all have children. Across
the street from the Notary, isn’t that Samson’s House? He has 3 children, and both houses look a
like. Also, the granary, it was a
distraction. They did not even attempt
to break into it, the fire was set through an upper storey and the door was
broken by the fire brigade to fight the fire.”
You had not realised that you were
speaking aloud until Jessica nodded ascent and responded, “that was my guess
too. Pretty well-informed raiders.”
I negotiated a pretty deal for the
supplies in my cart for preserved food for a long trip. It was mostly in Jessica’s favour, but she
clearly had a kind streak that she had never shown to anyone as she left a
small bag amongst the good with a few coins of gold and a note to “Give them
hell!”
Before I left, I decided to leave
no stone unturned and went to Pig to see what the commotion was all about.
No comments:
Post a Comment