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fableweaver · 5 years

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Arc of the Blind Warrior

Arc of the Blind Warrior

Traveling the trade road was interesting to say the least. The first day out and they found a caravan of Rhodin traveling the same road. Ian talked to those he could, at first they were wary, but when he mentioned Kree’s name they lessened their guard enough to tell him stories. None of the Rhodin in that caravan knew about the singing stone or Sapphira so they rode on.

The Rhodin unlike common folk also appeared differently in Ian’s strange sight. Most people appeared in shades of gray to Ian’s strange sixth sense. The Rhodin however appeared in shades of blue, the shades varying again on the person’s mood and thoughts. They only appeared in blue however unlike someone with the Elder Magic which appeared in multi colors.

Rork didn’t seem to take to the saddle much, getting saddle sores their first day out on the road. They slept along the roadside, wanting to save their coin and avoid people. As they traveled Ian kept asking the Rhodin about Sapphira, Kree’s name a password into the Rhodin camps. They passed through villages and towns, but never stayed in them. The towns with Sects were almost as dangerous as those without Sects, those without were sure signs of a presence of the Legion.

The weather grew colder and Ian could hear frost cracking on the ground in the morning. He couldn’t see the changes the seasons wrought anymore, but he felt the temperature change and the smell in the air shift to colder smells of snow. He didn’t know what the southern Mark was like, but he guessed it was a simple place of country folk.

The roads seemed safe and the more they spoke to the Rhodin the more welcome they became. At last after a week of travel along the trade road Ian came upon his first lead.

They had been hunting for a camping spot when Ian smelled wood smoke. He steered them towards a Rhodin camp, the sound of dogs barking a greeting. He heard the draw of a bow and stopped, sensing a man hiding behind the trunk of a tree.

“Easy friend,” Ian said. “We be travelers seekin a safe spot ta rest fer the night.”

“You aint my friend, friend,” the man answered. “Just turn your horse about and you can go on your way.”

“I be a friend o Kree’s,” Ian said.

“Aint heard o her,” the man said. It wasn’t surprising, not every Rhodin knew Kree personally. Ian listed a few other names that other Rhodin had given him. He heard the man relax his draw and step out from behind the tree.

“Sorry for the hostility friend,” the man said more cordially. “Names Radek.”

“I be Ian, this be mine son Will n mine friend Rork,” Ian said. He and Rork dismounted and Radek led the way into his camp. Dogs and children ran to greet them, but Radek shooed them off. He helped Ian and Rork settle their horses with his and then they gathered around the fire. Radek’s wife served them with goulash and bread, everyone eating by the fire. When they finished Ian began with his customary question.

“Have ye heard o a Rhodin by the name o Sapphira?” Ian asked. Instead of the initial denial Ian sensed a surprised silence.

“My name is Sapphira,” Radek’s wife said.

“Ah, I be sorry,” Ian said before a misunderstanding could take place. “I mean the un that were the lover ta Tony Bones.”

“Aye I ken of her,” Sapphira said wryly. “My mother loved the tale and named me after her. Of course I never lived up to the name. Sapphira had many children, each by a different man. Me I just married the first Rhodin lad that managed to flip my skirt.”

Ian heard Radek laugh at that and perceived him to kiss his wife’s cheek. Ian was finding he could catch on to people’s emotions a bit better now, and could see the slight change in both their aura’s of affection.

“Why do you ask about her?” Sapphira asked.

“I heard the tale of her n Tony Bones,” Ian answered. “I were wonderin what happened ta her.”

“Her n her treasure you mean?” Sapphira asked shrewdly.

“Aye, I baint lie that I be mighty interested in what became o the loot she seduced outta old Bones,” Ian answered and Sapphira laughed.

“Well way I heard it was her children split it among themselves when she died,” Sapphira answered. “It’s probably split among all the Rhodin by now, or found their way back to some lord’s trove.”

Ian hid his disappointment; maybe he could still find another lead. Or if he could find one of Sapphira’s decedents he could find where some of the treasure went.

“Don’t mind my friend,” Rork said lightly. “See we were just looking for a particular piece of Sapphira’s treasure. The singing stone.”

“Singing stone,” Sapphira said wryly. “Most are more interested in the diamond the size of an egg than some stone. I doubt you’d find any word about that since most interest is around the gold and jewels.”

“Wait,” Radek said and Ian felt hope flare again. “What about the Piper of the Lost?”

“What does that song have to do with a singing stone?” Sapphira asked.

“Think about it,” Radek said. “The Piper was said to ‘play upon a flute as old as stone’ why not made of stone?”

“A flute made o stone be what I seek,” Ian said interested. “A singin stone; that be what caught my eye in Bones’ story.”

“I think you have it right,” Radek said. “The Piper of the Lost is an old tale of the Rhodin’s based on a true story. The story goes though that a Rhodin man, a piper by trade, came down with the illness and he died along with his wife and children. To guide his family and those he traveled with to the afterlife he played his flute. Soon he leads all those dying of the plague to their rest, playing his stone flute to guide them.”

“The true tale is much worse,” Sapphira said grimly. “During the plague times in history the Rhodin were blamed for spreading the plague. Many were hunted down and burned in their wagons. There was one time when a whole caravan was burned during a gathering of the Rhodin, hundreds died in the blaze. The village that had committed the crime later succumbed to the plague all that lived there died. The Piper of the Lost is based on that village because it was said a song could be heard over the dead village after everyone had died.”

“Where be this happen?” Ian asked.

“Regis,” Radek answered. “In a town called Bellerose. The town moved a bit since but it is still there. I heard there is a barrow there for the dead from the plagues; it is where the most died of the disease.”

“Thank ye,” Ian said feeling a sense of accomplishment war with disappointment. What was he going to do now that the trail led into Regis?

“Why so interested in a stone flute?” Sapphira asked.

“It were a family heir loom,” Ian answered, he wasn’t even lying technically since he was married to Bailey and she was descended from Eileen who had owned the flute in the first place. “Bones stole it from another pirate what stole it from Daun.”

“It worth anything?” Radek asked.

“Only ta mine family,” Ian answered. “N we baint have much in the way o gold.”

“Well I hope you find what you seek then,” Radek said. “You and your friend are welcome to our fire and shelter for the night.”

“Thank ye,” Ian said and Rork murmured his own thanks.

The next morning they had a quick breakfast of bread and bacon before hitting the road.

“That tale be eatsome at ya ja,” Rork said as they rode.

“Aye,” Ian said wearily. “I wanna go back ta Bailey, but it would be better ta head south n search some more. But it be dangerous fer me ta head inta Regis what with a price on my head from the Grand Sect.”

“Those never be all that rightsome,” Rork said. “Not like they gots some drawing of ya or anything ja. And it will tell of a man and woman traveling together. I taint be all that shapely.”

Ian couldn’t help but laugh at that and nod.

“Aye well that be true, but we do make an odd couple Rork,” Ian said.

“Not all that odd,” Rork said. “And I have some connections that we can call on.”

“In Regis?” Ian asked.

“Hyria trades with Regis,” Rork answered. “I’ll admit, some of my kin be in the unwholesome trade, criminals like. We can look ta them ta seek aid if things become diresome.”

“Alright,” Ian said, having an innate dislike for law breakers as he was one to obey most laws. In Daun those who broke the laws were criminals or the worst sort, murderers or rapists. In Hyria he had gathered from Rork that it was a common pastime to break the law. In fact it wasn’t really breaking the law since Hyria did not have many laws against smuggling or theft. It was only in other kingdoms that their activities became illegal. And a Hyrian cares little for the laws of other kingdoms.

“I coggin we can get along real fine in Regis if ya want,” Rork said.

“Aye, but…” Ian trailed off turning north and thinking of Bailey.

“Ya miss her,” Rork said this in a knowing way, and Ian could hear just a touch of envy to his voice.

“Aye, but I also ken o the look on her face ifn I handed the song ta her,” Ian answered.

“Ya taint able ta see the look on her face,” Rork said and Ian winced.

“Aye but I ken it’ll make her happy,” Ian said. “N proud…” The emotion that over whelmed him for the moment stole his breath. Bailey would be proud of him, and knowing that sent a wave of warmth through him. Even if he failed she would be proud of his effort, to continue the quest that she had set out on. Ian could sort of understand now why she had wanted to leave Barrow Múr in the first place.

“So what be it?” Rork asked.

“South,” Ian said. “We head for Bellerose.”

“Alrighty,” Rork said, his voice giving the hint of a wicked grin. Though Rork hated traveling the road he seemed to know the roads well. He bragged that he had a great sense of direction, but Ian knew he spoke to the Rhodin about where to go.

They steadily made their way south, making better time as they didn’t seek out the Rhodin. It was only two days until they reached the border between Regis and the Mark. There was only a post along the side of the road, but guards stopped them and they dismounted.

“Names,” the guard ordered briskly.

“Rork o Loamy Downs,” Rork answered. “And this is Cian and his son.”

Rork had already devised a cover story for them and so had told Ian to let him do all the talking.

“Papers,” the guard said and Ian heard the rustling of papers. He didn’t know what this meant, but Rork seemed to know what he was doing. “What about him? Do you have papers?”

“He’s blind sir,” Rork answered. “They taint have papers in Daun ja.”

“How did he get this far without papers?” the guard asked.

“How do the Rhodin?” Rork answered. “I met him in Hyria n decided to take him on as an extra hand in my trade ja.”

“Which is?” the guard asked.

“Animal husbandry, can’t ya read?” Rork said and guard grumbled as he shifted through the papers. “Lookin far work ja in Regis.”

“Why?” the guard asked.

“I won’t go inta details ja,” Rork said. “But let’s just say I fiddled the wrong girl.”

Ian gathered unspoken words were exchanged with a look then.

“I can’t let him past without papers,” the guard said stubbornly. Ian didn’t hear went on next but he perceived Rork shake the guard’s hand and whisper something to him. “Ah right here are his papers,” the guard grumbled as he turned away. “Go on through.”

They mounted their horses again and rode past the post, Ian waiting until they were far away before he rode next to Rork.

“What did ye do?” Ian asked.

“Bribed him,” Rork answered. “Hope ya weren’t fond o that silver coin ja.”

“Nowt, thanks,” Ian said with a wry grin.

They rode on into Regis and Ian tightened his guard. He kept Will wrapped in his swaddle, a new carrying basket along his back kept him warm through the cold days. He didn’t let anyone see him; his Aldan features could cause trouble. Rork helped keep watch, and feed Will occasionally from the nanny goat. The little nanny goat seemed to have taken a liking to Will, often sleeping near Will’s basket in camp. Will seemed to be growing well, and Ian felt pride that he had been able to care for him so well.

Still Ian felt worried about their travel through Regis. He felt a change now, not in weather but in the mood of the people. There was a tense air between the two races of Regis; the Elmerians were growing restless under the Regarian rule. Ian only had to listen to the whispers and grumbles of men in taverns to know that the words of the Legion of the Creed were spreading. Thanks to the attack at the royal wedding and the pressure from the Regarians to hunt down the cult many were growing resentful of the harsh treatment.

Rork, commenting as always as if he didn’t want Ian to miss anything, said that most of the people they passed were Elmerian. The farms they rode by, desolate at the end of the Colored One, were operated by Elmerians. The villages however held the Regarians. Rork said they passed several homes of lords by these villages, great estates far from the road. They avoided these naturally and only stopped in the villages for food and directions. The Rhodin were less here, but not unseen and occasionally Ian and Rork would share their camp.

“Tell me bout Bailey ja,” Rork said one day as they rode. “Ye hardly jabber bout her.”

“Cause I be so worried bout her,” Ian answered. “Though I guess I baint need ta be. She be strong, I mean powerful in the Elder Magic. Ifn ye kenned I were strong she be much stronger. She be kind but ifn ye cross her or endanger those she loves ye’d best watch out. Pepper, her twin, be fierce, but Bailey she be tough. She be soft n kind on the outside but that just covers a hard heart.”

“A hard heart?” Rork said puzzled. “She be cold then?”

“Nowt, I just ken that deep down she’ll always do her duty o’er her love,” Ian answered. “There baint be anything wrong with that, n I love her fer it. I ken now why she does it, ta do what needs done. Ifn ye baint then ye have failed yerself n those ye love. I baint sure I can explain it. I just ken I understand her better now, n wish ta do the same. When I see her gain I ken she’ll be proud o me fer it.”

“What else?” Rork asked softly. Ian wondered why he was asking these things but he continued on. Speaking of Bailey was hard, he missed her the more he spoke, but at the same time it felt good to remind himself of her.

“She likes it when I kiss her just behind the ear,” Ian said. “She loves sweets, n apples, un time she hid a biscuit under the pillow fer later n I crushed it ta crumbs by accident. She baint be afraid o spiders but she hates lint fer some reason. N when she laughs really hard she snorts a bit.”

Ian kept going on about Bailey as they rode, Rork never once asking him to stop.

Here in the south there wasn’t as much snow, but it was still chilly and windy. They traveled at a steady pace, faster than the Rhodin wagons but not a breakneck speed of a messenger. It took them ten days from the border to reach Bellerose, the day still young when they rode into the village. It was much like the other villages they had ridden through, twenty odd houses, a few shops, a post, and a lord’s manor sitting on a hill over the village.

Rork started to ride towards town but Ian stopped him.

“Where ye goin?” Ian asked.

“Inta town,” Rork said. “We need ta settle in the inn afore we go a looky loo far the mass grave ja.”

“Nowt, I baint want the Regarians ta catch onta anything fishy like,” Ian said. “We find the grave first.”

“But it’ll be dark soon,” Rork said nervously.

“Baint worry Rork,” Ian said with a grin trying to make light of the situation. “I’ll protect ye from the ghosts.”

Ian saw Rork’s aura shift and he realized he had said too much. Not that he had frightened Rork, but that he had just inadvertently said one of those things that only made Rork more attracted to him. Guiltily he turned away towards the road. He searched with his senses and found a few gnomes, summoning them over with a touch of power. The little earth spirits leapt up onto his horse, two settling before him and a third hanging onto Will’s basket. Ian heard Will laugh and knew the gnome would be making faces at the baby. He left them be, unconcerned that the gnome would harm Will.

“Can ye lead us ta where many men be buried?” Ian said to them. He found working with the Wild Folk that being polite helped a lot. He felt them nod in answer and one scampered off. The other sat on Ian’s saddle horn, guiding him with a tap on his hands. They rode around the village toward a great hill that rested about half a league away. The hill stood far from the Lord’s manor, practically out of sight of the village.

They rode around the hill, Ian feeling He Who Burns was sinking lower in the sky. A cold wind was blowing, rattling the branches of the bare trees and sending the leaves on the ground rustling across the road.

“Ya be sure bout this?” Rork asked nervously.

“Aye, baint ye worry Rork,” Ian said sure of himself. They stopped at the foot of the hill Ian able to sense a blocked opening before them.

“Ian we taint able ta move that,” Rork said. “There’s a huge boulder over the entrance.”

Ian ignored him and dismounted walking up to the blocked entrance. He sensed it was square entrance supported with wood beams. A great rock had been moved to block the entrance. Ian put his hand upon the stone, feeling the power of this place. It was not a meeting of the lines, but it was a place of certain earth powers. Ian could feel gnomes gathering around here, many of them joining him at the boulder.

“Can ye open the way?” he asked them. He felt them answer a yes, but they needed power. Shivering Ian drew the power they needed from the aether and fed it to them. The gnomes swarmed up over the rock and Ian quickly stepped back. There was a grating noise and a rumble, then the rock split open with a thundering crack. Pieces tumbled down, opening a gap big enough for Ian to fit through if he turned sideways.

Ian knew Rork was staring at him. For all his talk of magic and the Phay this was the first time Rork had seen Ian do anything of a substantial working. Ian ignored him, his mind on the opening. He stepped through, carefully moving so Will strapped to his back didn’t get caught on anything.

He heard Rork dismount and scramble to light a lantern, but Ian went on not needing a light. It was strange, he knew he entered a dark place, but his alternate vision did not change. If anything it grew better surrounded by walls strong in the earth powers. He could perceive the walls around him in muted tones of brown, though details eluded him so it was not the same as sight.

He walked through a short tunnel into the heart of the hill and there he found an open chamber. The room smelled of dust and decay, it smelled of things long dead and forgotten. The cavern seemed to be a manmade hollow in the hill, the rock walls carven and even. Ian guessed this was someone’s attempt at a mine before it became the home to the dead. Ian could sense a lot of the gnomes moving around the place, but as he took a step his foot encountered something. He knelt and felt a skull near his foot and he quickly pulled back. Rork came up behind him a gasped.

“What do ye see?” Ian asked.

“A big pile o bones,” Rork answered. “Ye taint expect ta sort through them do ya?”

“Nowt I ken a faster way,” Ian said. “Hail!” he shouted and dust stirred at his shout. All the gnomes in the cavern turned to him. “I seek the March o the Phay, can ye find it?”

There was a flurry of activity then, dust swirling and bones rattling as the gnomes dove into the mound of bones. Ian wondered what it looked like to Rork who could not see the gnomes. The Wild Kin could have an effect on the physical world as they chose, but since most people could not see them they only saw the effects they had. The stirring of leaves in the wind, dust devils, heat shimmers in the distance, or even that slight movement in the corner of the eye that one couldn’t quiet catch no matter how fast they turned; all these could be attributed to the Wild Kin.

Now though with Ian’s prompting and touch of power the gnomes were moving more than they normally would. At last they settled down and one stepped forward out of the group. It shook its head and then ran off as if it had lost interest suddenly. The others did the same, going back to their normal lounging around or exploring nooks and crannies.

“Well?” Rork asked nervously.

“It baint be here,” Ian said heartbroken.

“We tried Ian,” Rork said with a clap on the shoulder. “Might be we should go inta town now n see what we can stir up ja.”

“Aye,” Ian said but he had little hopes of finding anything.

They left the grave, but since the entrance stone had been broken they couldn’t reseal it. They rode back down the road and Rork led the way to the village. Evening had come and the villagers were all about, heading for the local tavern. They headed there as well since the tavern as always was in the local inn. A boy was sweeping the stable yard as they rode in, leaping to take their horse’s reigns.

“Be there any vacancies here lad?” Rork asked as he dismounted.

“Aye since the seasons dropped,” the boy answered as Ian dismounted. “Why do you ride the small one if you’re the taller one?”

“I taint like havin something so big between my legs ja,” Rork answered with a chuckle. The boy didn’t seem to get the joke so Rork took their saddle bags. “See the goat is settled too.”

“Yes sir,” the boy answered as he led the horses and goat off into the stables. Rork led the way into the inn, the smell of roasting meat and beer greeting them as they entered. The room was loud as well, many men talking and laughing.

“How can I help you strangers?” the innkeeper said as he approached them.

“A room ja,” Rork answered. “I take it ye have plenty?”

“Sure do sir,” the man answered. Ian gathered he was Regarian by his accent, though he could tell little from the gray shape he sensed other than that he was fat. “It’ll be two royals a night.”

“Two!” Rork said. “My good man just because it is the off season taint mean ya can charge n arm n leg fer a room.”

Ian left Rork to the haggling and slipped in past the innkeeper into the tavern. Negotiating the room was difficult, the gray shapes he perceived as people kept moving and blurring together. He stepped on a few toes and nearly knocked someone over until he found a seat at table. Two other men sat there and seemed surprised a stranger had joined them. Stranger still Will had started crying due to the noise of the room.

“Evenin,” Ian said. Sliding Will’s basket off his shoulders he unwrapped the babe and settled him on his knee. Once free of the basket in safe in his father’s arms, Will settled down enough to suck on his thumb and look around the room in curiosity.

“Evening,” one of the men said getting over his surprise.

“My name be Ian neighbor,” Ian said nodding in greeting. “This be mine son Will.”

“Names Gerald, this is my brother Gilbert,” the man said. “What brings a Daunish man to Regis?”

“My employer, that Hyrian feller talkin with the innkeeper,” Ian answered. “He be an animal healer what be lookin fer work. I just be his servant.”

“With a child?” Gerald asked.

“Mine wife died,” Ian answered. “I be all he has n a man’s gotta work. Lucky Rork baint care that I have him. What o ye?”

“We’re cobblers,” Gerald answered, seeming to do all the talking for his brother. “You’re blind aren’t you? What kind of servant is blind?”

“I be a good cook,” Ian answered. He guessed the brothers were Regarian as well, getting better at identifying things without sight. He saw Gerald’s aura shift slightly to a doubtful shade, darkening to disgust. He assumed Ian was Rork’s lover. “Rork said he heard tales bout this village.”

“What tales?” Gerald asked, on edge but seeming to like this change of subject. Provincial people loved talking about local legends.

“Bout the hill n plague all those years ago,” Ian answered. “Be it all true that all those people be dead in that hill?”

“True as true,” Gerald said. “Some say that hill is haunted by the dead.”

“No uns gone ta look?” Ian asked.

“We all stay away from there,” Gerald said. “You’d best too if you know what’s good for you. Nothing but bad spirits up there.”

Ian nodded and felt a hand on his shoulder. Ian turned to see Rork standing over him.

“Come on I got us a room n a private meal ja,” Rork said. Ian saw Gerald’s aura darken even more, but he ignored him as he followed Rork through the tavern and up the stairs to their room.

“Ye were jabberin bout me Ian?” Rork said crossly.

“Sorry,” Ian said. “But they caught on quick like ta yer tastes.”

“Cause I be Hyrian,” Rork said. “Everyun coggins what we be like ja.”

“Sorry Rork,” Ian said.

“I taint be mad Ian,” Rork said. “It just means I shouldn’t stay too long in this village ja. Regarians be even touchier then the Markians. They don’t even romp in bed like them. Sorry but it looks like we’ll have ta get outta town real quicksome like.”

Ian could only sigh defeated. It looked like he was going to have to go to Bailey empty handed, the trail had gone cold.

They sat at the table and ate their meal of stewed beef and potatoes and white bread. Ian found the food flavorless, not even a hint of herbs or spices to the meal. When they finished Rork took their dishes down to the kitchen and Ian fed Will from a milk bladder. After Will was fed he settled down in Ian’s lap playing with his rattle. Ian watched Will’s changing aura feeling as though he could see him growing.

Not for the first time Ian thought of Matt and Bailey when he looked at Will. He missed them both and worried. He wondered too if Will missed his mother and brother, and Ian felt a pang to know his son didn’t have his mother nor Matt have his father. He sat feeling his eye begin to water with tears thinking about Bailey, a hollow ache in his chest. Rork came back at that moment and stopped, Ian quickly drying his eyes.

“Ya be alright?” Rork asked putting a hand on Ian’s shoulder.

“Aye,” Ian said and Rork seemed to understand everything in that word.

“I only got us un bed ja,” Rork said. “Hope that be alright.”

“As long as ye keep yer hands ta yerself,” Ian said jokingly, but Rork just nodded. Ian sighed again and they went to bed. They just kicked off their boots, and Ian took off his ceramic mail. Ian settled Will in his basket to sleep, afraid of rolling over onto the child while he slept. He and Rork lay back to back, but Ian could still sense Rork’s tension even when he closed his eyes.

Ian tried to sleep, but Rork’s tension wasn’t helping. Ian tried to snore a bit, making his breathing even so Rork thought he was asleep in attempts of making Rork sleep. He felt Rork shift next to him, rolling over to his other side. Ian thought he was just settling to sleep until Rork put his arm around him. Rork moved in close, sliding his hand up inside Ian’s shirt.

“Rork,” Ian said warningly and Rork stopped, Ian feeling his breath on the back of his neck.

“Ya were awake,” Rork said regretfully withdrawing his hand. “Sorry, sweet dreams.”

“Dreams!” Ian said as he sat up struck with inspiration. Why hadn’t he thought of that? He hurried to retrieve his boots, groping around blindly for them. He pulled on his cloak, but left his mail off, deciding he wasn’t going to need it.

“Dreams?” Rork said puzzled. “Ian where ya be going ja?”

“I have ta go back ta the hill,” Ian said.

“Can’t this wait?” Rork asked but Ian didn’t answer. Ian wrapped Will up who started to cry at the rude awakening. Ignoring Will’s cries Ian put him in his basket and pulled him onto his back. He practically ran out the door, Rork hopping around still trying to get his boots on. Ian hurried down to the stable and found Enbarr simply because he was the biggest horse stabled there. Ian didn’t bother with a saddle; he pulled himself up onto Enbarr’s back and urged him on. Enbarr trotted off just as Rork came stumbling out of the inn.

It was just after nightfall and the tavern was still loud and full of life, no one but the stable boy saw the two men ride out again. Ian headed back for the hill, finding it by memory. Will’s cries tempered off into whimpers as they rode, but picked up again when they reached the hill. Ian dismounted and tied Enbarr’s halter to a nearby tree. He took Will down as well to comfort him, Will rooting against his chest looking for a breast.

“Sorry Will,” Ian said softly. “I baint mean ta wake ye but I baint wanna leave ye alone.”

Will only answered with a hiccup and Ian held him closer. Rork caught up on Puzzle, ridding at a full gallop. He came to a halt in a cloud of dust, leaping off Puzzle’s back and stalking over angrily.

“What’s gotten inta yar head?” Rork shouted.

“Dreams,” Ian answered. “Back in Barrow Múr me n Glen accidentally slipped inta a trance n dreamed o the past. I kennin I might be able ta do it again here n see what happened ta the song.”

“Ya sure?” Rork said sounding worried.

“I can do it, it baint take long,” Ian said. “Come on.”

He went into the hill and Rork followed reluctantly holding onto Ian since he couldn’t see in the dark. Inside the grave it was just as they had left it. Ian pushed the bones aside and sat down on the ground, Rork kneeling next to him.

“I’ll be goin inta a trance,” Ian said. “I won’t sleep fer long.”

“Should I hold Will?” Rork asked.

“Nowt, I can do this with him,” Ian said. “Just make sure nothin disturbs me.”

“Aye,” Rork said sounding scared. Ian lay down with Will on his chest and closed his eyes. At first he just laid there, doing something that he had only done by accident before on command was harder than he thought. He concentrated on the earth powers around him and slowly he began to feel his body relax. It was a bit like falling asleep, but Ian felt a slight shift as his spirit left his body.

He looked around but saw nothing. His sight had returned in the dream but at the same time he had that strange sense so he could still see in the dark. Around him was nothing but the earth of the hill, a feeling of suffocation starting to make him panic. He saw things as the gnomes did, the little creatures moving through the earth exploring rabbit warrens and mice dens.

Then light came in. Ian watched as miners broke into the hill and dug out the earth, moving the stone and earth to get to what lay under the hill. Ian watched as the men worked seeming to see things in snatches as the tunnel and chamber were dug. He saw the miners give up quickly when it became apparent there was nothing worth digging for and once more the hill was left alone.

The gnomes returned to explore the tunnels of men. Ian had no idea how long he watched the gnomes, time in dreams seemed to move strangely and he was underground away from the sun. The sound of a song made him turn, all the gnomes turning at the sound as well. From the entrance tunnel came a man of smoke playing a flute. He was burnt all over his body and a pall of smoke hung over him. He marched into the center of the cavern and continued to play, slowly more joined him.

The people crawled after the piper like rats on their bellies. Ian saw their skin covered in weeping sores and blackened with disease. The people followed the piper mindlessly; Ian was able to see the song holding their spirits in thrall. Hundreds crawled into the cavern, crawling over each other to huddle at the feet of the smoking man. When the last crawled in the song seemed to reach its peak.

With a sigh of relief all those in the cavern died together. Ian shivered, feeling his own wayward spirit seek to follow them onto the lines into the aether. With an effort of will he drew himself free to see the Piper still stood. He had no eyes, yet Ian knew he was looking at him.

“What do you seek here wayfarer?” the man asked, his voice a grating rasp from his burnt throat.

“I seek what ye hold,” Ian answered. The Piper looked down at the pipe and Ian did as well. It was a flute carven out of green soap stone; intricate carvings in tiny detail that made one want to examine it closely. Despite being held in sooty dirty hands the swirling green stone was not even marked or stained.

“It has guided us,” the Piper answered.

“Why did ye kill em?” Ian asked.

“They were to die anyways,” the Piper answered. “Though they killed me and my people. Now they will ride the wheel.”

“Ye should go as well,” Ian said.

“I will, to see her again,” the Piper said sounding sad. “Here, I give you what you seek.”

Ian tried to take the flute that was offered to him but it slipped through his hands.

“I can’t,” Ian said regretfully. “I only be here in spirit.”

“Then I am sorry,” the Piper said.

“Good rest ta ye,” Ian said to him. The Piper nodded and lay down in the center of the pile of bodies.

Ian once again watched the cavern again. The sound of stone being moved over the entrance told of others sealing away the dead. Ian was left alone to watch the bodies rot. He was glad the bodies turned to bones quickly in his dream, and he could still see the stone flute perched on the breastbone of the Piper. The gnomes moved around the bones of the dead curious rather than disturbed.

Time once again moved in an undetectable pace until once again a sound disturbed the peace. This time it was the sound of cracking stone. Ian turned to the entrance where lamp light flooded the cavern and three men walked into the cavern. He could see them clearly in the dream. Two were Elmerians, shorter drab men than their leader. The one in the middle was Regarian, a tall man with blonde hair and a mustache.

Their clothes and gear were dated, though from how long ago Ian did not know. The two servants set up lanterns as the Regarian stood studying the bones before him.

“Amazing,” he said at last.

“What was that master?” one of the servants asked.

“I am just amazed Rupert,” the lord answered. “All these people died over a hundred years ago, yet look at how the skeletons held together. There must have been no scavengers here to disturb the bones.”

Ian knew from watching that there had been mice and insects feeding on the bones, but these had been so small they hadn’t disturbed the bones.

The servants continued to set up lamps as the lord sat down to take out a drawing pad. He began to sketch the bones, the sound of charcoal over paper eerie in the grave. Rupert however finally spotted the flute in the center of the bones. He glanced at it and then at his lord. The Regarian was drawing the bones right in front of him, starting to take out a string to measure the bones.

Rupert walked around the pile, trying to look discreet. He couldn’t reach the flute however as it was in the center of the pile of bones. He tried to reach out but his foot shifted the bones and the Regarian looked up at him angrily.

“Rupert!” the Regarian shouted. “Do not disturb the bones. What are you doing anyways?”

“Nothing Lord Bellamy,” the man answered withdrawing. Bellamy glared at him but turned his attention back to the bones. That was when he too saw the flute. Excited he set his drawings aside to walk around the pile. At last he carefully stepped into the pile so he could snatch the flute from the Piper. The pile shifted slightly, but remained where it was as the lord stepped free of the bones.

He looked at the flute amazed, turning it around in his hands.

“What is it milord?” the other servant asked.

“A flute,” Bellamy answered. “It is of Aldan workmanship. How on earth did an Aldan flute come to rest in a Regarian mass grave?”

“I heard tell that Rhodin be buried here too,” the other servant answered. “They are known thieves.”

“Yes that could be it,” Bellamy answered. He was examining the flute in total fascination. He hesitantly put it to his lips and tried to play it, but no sound came out.

“It is beautiful all the same milord,” Rupert said, his eyes shining as he gazed at the flute. “Even if it doesn’t work.”

“Yes of course,” Bellamy said as he slipped the flute into his pocket, glaring at Rupert. “I think we’ve done enough for the day, we should head back.”

“Yes milord,” the other servant said. Lord Bellamy left the two men to gather the lamps as he left, carrying the flute with him.

Ian had seen enough and knew it was time to turn back. It seemed waking however was going to be just as hard as getting to sleep. Ian struggled through a smothering cloud of darkness, feeling lost as he sought his body. Then a pale gray thread of light seemed to pull him along and he found himself once more. Ian returned to his body startled to find he could barely move. He groaned and tried to rise, feeling a stiff hose had been shoved down his nose and throat.

His sixth sense came back to him and told him Will sat on his chest. The babe laughed as Ian opened his eyes and he felt a tiny hand on his cheek.

“Ian!” Rork shouted sounding utterly relieved. Rork knelt next to him leaning over. He took the hose out of Ian’s nose and Ian gagged as it left him.

“What were that for?” Ian asked his voice dry. Rork first helped him drink some water; Ian feeling like his muscles were made of unbaked dough.

“Ya’ve been snoozin far a long time Ian,” Rork said.

“How long?” Ian asked startled.

“Three weeks,” Rork answered and Ian felt a wave of shock. “I had ta put that tube down yar throat sos I could feed ya. It be what I’d do far an injured animal.”

Ian realized he was naked wrapped in a big blanket, a diaper the only thing he wore under the blanket. Ian felt a wash of shame at that and he knew Rork had been caring for him intimately. He felt Rork reach out and gently brush a lock of his hair off his forehead. The gesture was so tender Ian knew that Rork’s feelings had only deepened while he had cared for Ian.

Ian turned away feeling guilt catch in his throat. Rork knew him well enough by now to know why he turned away. Ian turned his attention to Will and felt his heart swell to feel how much he had grown. Will was now sitting on his own, and was quite the weight on Ian’s chest. Ian smiled as Will said some childish nonsense as his little hand tugged at Ian’s beard.

“Thank ye Rork,” Ian said. “Fer carin fer Will while I were gone.”

“I did it far ya Ian,” Rork said softly before shifting to a more brisk business like manor. “Now let’s get ya cleaned up n dressed.”

Ian nodded as Rork picked Will up and set him aside. Rork unwrapped him from the blanket and helped him sit up. Ian felt like he was the babe now, weak and hardly able to move. The cavern was warmed by a fire, Ian able to sense the salamanders of the fire. Rork helped him sit up and then took the diaper off. Rork washed Ian from a bucket of water with a wash cloth. Ian could tell immediately Rork’s touch was anything but business like.

“Rork,” Ian said with reproach. Rork only sighed and hurried to finish washing him. He helped Ian dry off and then don some clean clothes. Rork helped him sit by the fire leaning against the cave wall. He fed Ian a porridge of wheat and goat’s milk. Ian ate knowing this was what he had been feeding Will as well because soon Will was voicing his own hunger. Rork laughed and brought the child to sit in his father’s lap and he fed them both.

“Sos what did ya see?” Rork asked when he finished feeding them. Ian told him what he had discovered and Rork listened pensively. “Bellamy be the name o the local Baron. Ya ken he has the flute?”

“Maybe but my guess will be it moved on,” Ian said. “Somewhat like that would be sold er used as a dowry fer sure. Maybe it were even stolen, that servant Rupert were really interested in it.”

“I’ll go inta town n ask round bout the lord,” Rork said. “I can get the history o the Bellamy house n find out who that lord had been.”

“I can go with ye,” Ian offered.

“Naw Ian ya be weak still ja,” Rork said. “Sides which I told the locals ya ran off so they didn’t coggin ya were alone here n vulnerable when I been gone. They coggin me now too sos I’ve got their trust. I can figure out what ya need ta coggin. It be early now, dawns just rose. I should get goin.”

“Ye sure?” Ian said.

“Taint worry,” Rork said with a laugh. “I can handle myself. There’s plenty o water n porridge still by the fire. I’ll be back by lunch.”

Ian nodded as Rork stood and gathered a few things. He left Ian alone with Will.

“Well I guess it be just ye n me now sprout,” Ian said to Will. Will answered with a wordless grunt and Ian had an idea. “Hey Will can ye say Da?” Ian said in Daunish. For the morning he sat trying to get Will to speak, Will answering occasionally with wordless shouts or grunts. Ian was so taken with the noises he didn’t mind that Will wasn’t able to form full words. Every time he came even a little close Ian laughed and congratulated him.

It didn’t seem long then when Rork returned, and he was limping. Years of seeing his mother hide her injuries told Ian Rork had tried to do the same.

“What happened?” Ian asked trying to stand, but he was too weak.

“I be all goody good Ian taint worry yar head,” Rork said, his voice laced with suppressed pain.

“Bullshit,” Ian said. “Sit down Rork n tell me who did this ta ye.”

Rork sighed and sat down heavily, dropping his pack.

“I taint be so popular in the village,” Rork answered. “The Elmerians taint mind me, special since I can see ta their animals durin the winter. The Regarians though… well I stopped goin ta town awhile ago. Got all my supplies from the Elmerian farmers. But they wouldn’t coggin bout the lord so…”

“I be sorry Rork,” Ian said horrified. “Ye alright?”

“Aye I can take a beatin mate taint worry bout that,” Rork said wryly. “N I even got what ya needed. See a pretty lass coggin what ya needed ta coggin, only the men taint liked me jawin ta her. Nawt like I were gonna do anything ta her, I mean she taint my type after all.”

Ian would have found the dry joke mildly funny had Rork’s voice not been choked with pain.

“Anyways she told me that the lord was probably the first lord Bellamy,” Rork said. “After the plagues swept the lands there were many holdins without a lord so the king o Regis assigned new barons. He chose Bellamy for here. He were a scholar afore and when he heard there was an old mass grave here he came ta study it.

“Well old Bellamy continued his studies til he got inta a school that were in Versae. He gave the title ta his brother n went ta the school ta study.”

“What bout the song?” Ian asked.

“She taint coggin bout that,” Rork said. “My guess is he took it with him. The servant ya mentioned weren’t in her story, I coggin if he did any wrong by the lord like stealing she’d coggin bout it.”

It wasn’t iron clad, but it was enough.

“Versae,” Ian said softly. “That be Cair Leon now.”

“It were part o Alda afore that though,” Rork said. “Could be the lord Bellamy passed on the flute ta the Aldan. They could have it again.”

Rork said this with both excitement and bitter resentment. He knew that could mean Ian would go to Alda, and Bailey.

“Might be but I wanna check Cair Leon first,” Ian said. “No stone left unturned.”

“Well it’ll be some time afore ya be ready ta ride,” Rork said. “Ya be weak as a kitten now. N it be winter.”

“Aye,” Ian said wearily. “Un step at a time. Sos let’s get a look at yer wounds Rork.”

He might have argued if he hadn’t been so beat up. Instead he let Ian help him out of his shirt and prod at his bruises. Ian couldn’t see the damage, but feeling along Rork’s back and sides he found a few cracked ribs.

“I be guessin ye be bruised black n blue Rork,” Ian said. “How many o them were there?”

“Six,” Rork answered and handed Ian a pot of salve. “Rub that on my back. I managed to break at least un o their fat noses, another I scored a glorious cock punch on.”

Ian laughed as he started to spread the salve on Rork’s back feeling him shiver under his hands. Rork was silent and Ian decided not to say anything, guessing how he felt. Ian finished and Rork quickly pulled his shirt on.

“Be there anything else I could help ye with Rork?” Ian asked out of guilt. He heard Rork’s silence, the unasked question lying between them breathless.

“Could ya hold me?” Rork asked quietly. “Just that.”

“Aye,” Ian said. He sat back against the wall and held his arms open to Rork. Rork rested his head on Ian’s chest, snuggling against him much like a dog seeking the comfort of its master. Ian held him, ignoring the shivering sobs of the man in his arms. Rork’s breathing grew even and Ian heard him fall asleep.

Will however grew restless and Ian had to carefully reach over to pull Will over to him and settle him in his other arm. Will fell asleep too, and Ian wasn’t far behind, his mind slipping into a thankfully dreamless slumber.

#fantasy #series #writing #please read #fairies #dragons

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