Baladin: Chapter 4

 

Chapter 4

The crowds had died down somewhat since the morning, but there was a still several people milling around the common room when I got there.  The Barmistress was serving beer and ale to any that requested it, even though it was the third hour of the day.  There was many empty tankards in one location at the centre of the stage where there was a large chair pulled forward.  The few times that you were here you recalled that any bard that was employed at the Pig could take rests on the chair or if they were telling stories.  Stories did not sell a lot of drink, so this chair was rarely the focus point.  From the back a small round fellow was returning from out back and he was tightening his britches back up as he came.  “Well Folks, I think that about wraps it all up, time for an honest day’s labour!”  I was hoping that I would get to hear his story, as this close to the attack, it had to be an eyewitness, otherwise he was the least likely Tales-Spinner to grace any stage.  The boisterous patrons booed his announcement, and he staved off their jeers by saying, “Well n’more go then, shall we?” and the group cheered.

“It was dark that night all except the stare of Drogath’s Red eye upon the world, but I had drunk too much the day before, so I strayed out when I should have feared to travel, but travel I did because the call of the Pig’s Ale was so cunning that eve before,” he waited until he got a complimentary beer from someone in the crowd before continuing.  “Where was I, right, the beer of the Pig, finest beer all round.”  Cheers all round and the promotion was clearly paid.  “I stepped out of my outhouse, and I noticed a ship sailing up the river in the moonlight.  The sail was out, and a stiff breeze was filling it making the insignia plane as day.  It was a bright yellow octopus on a purple background!  I froze and stayed in the shade of my hut while the ship passed, but it turned as if It saw me.  It might have for the prow was carved with a figurehead of a dragon with red eyes and they sparkled sending shivers down to my nether regions.”  He paused to take a drink.  Then the ship landed, and the most inhuman looking creatures leapt from the gunwales!  They were tall and terrible, with bright swords and heads like an octopus and they bound across the fields with great gusto only touching the ground for the briefest time before launching themselves into the air again.  I shrank down so they could not see me.  The leapt so high that when they came to the walls, they leaped right over them.  And then the ship, with all its crew now a shore, it backed away and faded away like it was turning invisible, and it headed to the bridge to make for the other side.  I saw it again as it neared the bridge, for it was not invisible but it did pass right through the bridge like either it or the bridge was not there.  This was no true ship but the lost slaver ship from the war come with Octopus men from the deep oceans to revenge on the peoples that defeated them in the war.  The people in the audience cheer and ask to be told again.  But the Tale Spinner looks at the light and says, tonight folks for I got to go home and tend the farm.  Ill be back tonight!”

As I watched his little performance I began thinking over his gestures and the way he ruminated while he told his story and I saw some tell tale signs that he was embellishing the telling a little or a lot.  If I wanted to hear the real tale, I would never hear it in this setting.  I watched him as he went to the bar to settle his tab and saw the Barmistress pay him some money for the performances.  I heard from a few of the others that this was Tomas from off towards the Thyme river.  Tomas was slow moving and he stopped often to get his bearings, but he seemed to be heading for the west side of town, so I decided that I needed to speak to him, and it would be best to do it outside the town.  I took a few short cuts and beat him to the West gate and out along the road.  About an hour later he caught up to me where I was waiting for him.  There was no one with him but I followed at a discreet distance just in case.  After we were a hill and a copse of trees away from the town, I caught up to him.  I used my authoritative voice, the one I use to play a King and commanded him, “Hold up there Tomas.  Is that story you are telling truthful?”  He makes a sign that it is the gods awful truth or may the gods strike him down.  I was feeling that he is lying, my voice becomes angry, “I sense that you lie, and this will dearly misdirect the Agents of the Earl’s investigation, I ask you one last time to tell the truth, or I shall strike you down!”  Using my stage voice to get the truth can be a bit dishonest, but time was of the necessity. 

I bless you for lying, a good joke, commented Stromida

 Tomas fell the ground shaking, “No my Lord I only told a small lie, so I could get some free beer.  The ship did land near by my farm and I did witness them come out.  They did not have a dragon prow, and the sail was plainly black.  The slavers were normal looking and did not fly.  They did move fast, but did not leap over the walls, they might have waded past the edges into the harbour section,” he paused as much to get his breath back and to wail out a few pleas.  When he continued, he said, “I could scarcely move for fear they would see me as there were men on the boat looking my way and looking for movement in the moonlight.  I saw a small rowboat come aside that I must have missed earlier, there were three captive children, from the far bank and at that point I heard a small boom as the granary exploded and the light was bright in that direction.  The guards glanced away a bit, but I dared not to move.  A few minutes later the slavers came back over from wherever they went, and they had several children tied behind them, they left and went back the way they came, I swear it!”  I asked why the lie and the deception, and he quickly claimed that his wife’s brother was going to be blamed as he was on the watch that night and he was drinking with me earlier. 

I quietly slipped away to determine if this story was true.  I found the place where the ship ran aground and where the boots of many soldiers, and I saw the place where the children were transferred to the boat.  Digging a little deeper in one of the tracks I uncovered a small shoe covered in mud.  After washing it I realized it was a moccasin that Mora liked to wear.  I knew without a doubt who had my child, but there was something that puzzled me about the whole affair.  The boat travelled across the river to get my children, the five outer farms were targeted for their children and the homes in the town also were targeted for children too, the only one that did not hit a house with children was across the street from a house with children and the buildings looked pretty much identical.

I had to go back and collect the horse and cart at the Tipsy Cow so I had time to think about it and which direction I would go to catch a boat on the open river.  It would be futile, and the boat had a two day jump on me, so I had better figure out a better path.  Getting to the Commons I found the only the lunch time crowds at the inns.  The Commons was where the Troupe had set up their large tent and the stage the was made of folded together carts.  The Tipsy Cow was so close that those that were attracted to the festivities spent more time drinking and eating than watching the actors and the jugglers.  That was the last time that I saw all the children together.  Mora, Palo and Pater talked about seeing their friends more than seeing their mom with her old friends and only a few of the towny children attended the festivities, the rest were older or too young to be exposed to those sorts of characters.  I stopped.  Last time I saw them all together.  My stomach became queasy, could my friends from days of old be connected to the targeting of the children for slavers to attack. 

I went to speak to Jessica one last time to run the theory to her to see if it sounded daft.  When she heard me out, she nodded and then mentioned who had been at the bar for that night, because it was a short trip to town but still infrequent if it had not been for the players in town.  With only a few exceptions, Jessica counted the last time the families were in town was that evening.  Seemed plausible and gave credence to the axiom to avoid players as they were shifty thieves out to steal your young.  I could not say that that was not true, they did steal my heart away from my family and they were rather good at stealing purses in the big towns that she recalled, but they were not all bad. 

The Slaver boat could look like any boat during the day and on the river.  That inquiry was going to get difficult fast.  But if her hunch proved true, then the troupe might know where the ship was going.  If they were not at fault then they might want to help, they were friends, old friends.