Bellatrix: Swords of Chaos, Book One

CHAPTER 14

  That morning, Rolin brought out the man named Cortibis.He was not Zmarly, but a solid man skilled with a sword and a bow. He was tall and slim with chopped coppery hair, and a pale complexion that would burn easily in the sun. On one hip he carried a serviceable black sword and on his opposite shoulder he toted a yew bow painted with two black stripes.

  “Well met,” Range said, extending his arm.

  “Aye, well met,” Cortibis replied, shaking Range’s forearm.

  “You’re looking for work?” Range asked.

  “Aye, sir,” he nodded, looking at the ground.

  “You look young to be a mercenary,” Range said.

  Cortibis looked up,”I have had three other employers before who will give me letters.”

  Range nodded,”You’re not from around here.”

  “I have traveled a lot.”

  “You don’t look like you’ve seen many battles,” Range said.

  “There’s been no wars for many years.”

  “True,” Range said.”Why are you working as a mercenary now?”

  “The pay’s good and it’s better work than a soldier.”

  “So you were a soldier?” Range asked.

  “No.”

  Range paused.”I need someone honest.”

  “You will supply the meals?” Cortibis asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Then I am the most honest person you’ve met,” Cortibis said. Range had no idea on what to make out of that.The man seemed sincere enough. Range didn’t need to know everything about the men working for him.As long as they protected his family all would be well. Range welcomed Cortibis into the group.

  Morning passed uneventfully into afternoon.

  The sun paled as a film began to attach itself to the sky. The wind howled out of the north soon followed by stalwart clouds moving in like soldiers.

  Sterlin mumbled,”It’s going to be a cold winter.”No one commented, but they all knew he was correct.

  The group stayed its northerly course, battling the eye-stinging wind. The children had sunken deep down into the front of the wagon, buried under rough blankets. They played games and sometimes peeked out to look around. The stone gray sky was growing steadily darker; a cold rain was promised on the wind.There was another inn not too far ahead where they could weather the storm.

  They had gone for a while longer when Rolin called a halt to the march.

  “Someone is following us,” he said, looking behind.“Let me check. Stay here.”He was off into the woods, silent as a shadow.Range watched him go and wondered what the Zmarly was up to.

  “That is unnerving, Range,” Nicodemus said as Range approached with the horse. Nicodemus had stopped to sit.

  “It was.”

  “Someone is following us and we did not notice. Do you think it is the same person?” Nicky looked at Sterlin and then back to Range.”Let Rolin Zavatla chase him up. With him for us, who can be against us?” He removed his boots and began rubbing his feet.

  “I am paying him, but I don’t like it when he runs off like that,” Range said. The children crept from under their blankets.Range helped Zoë and Mel from the wagon.He shuffled Mel’s hair and held Zoë to his hip while they waited.

  “Is it bandits, father?” Zoë asked.

  “I’m not sure,” he answered, and squatted down, eye-to-eye.”Are you scared?”

  She shook her head,”Yes.”She gave him her smile.

  “We have a bunch of strong men here to protect us. Look at Nicky, and Sterlin and Cortibis. They are strong men, well armed. We’ll be fine. Trust me.” She hugged him again.Mel ran up and punched him in the leg.Range boxed with son for a moment before standing back up. He had to make it fun for them. He owed them a lot and would make amends soon.

  The cold wind was calmer now; the gray sky above was solid and unrelenting.Miriam unhooked her scarf from around her face.She gave Range a small smile.

  They waited for a few moments when Range, tired of standing in the wind, moved the wagon about so it faced east.He then had the horse pull it off the road a little ways.Once there, he pulled the tarp loose and sat in on the ground, creating an excellent block of the wind.They sat in a circle waiting for Rolin’s return.

  Sterlin lit his pipe and Range and Nicodemus pulled out durries.Cortibis had no weed.

  “Would you like a durry?” Nicky asked.

  “If you’ve an extra one.” Nicky handed him the rolled up smoker.Sterlin handed him his quickflint.Soon they were all sitting, blocked by the wind, waiting.

  “Cortibis, what made you decide to become a mercenary?” Sterlin asked.

  “Pay’s good and it’s better than being a soldier,” Cortibis said.

  “I’m sure it is, but that’s no answer,” Sterlin said, with a chuckle.”I wanted to know what made you decide to become one. Not why you are one.”

  Cortibis paused for a moment.He seemed to be weighing something. What was he pondering?Range was hoping it was nothing bad. He’d hate to have to let the man go.

  Cortibis took another drag from his durry.”It’s a long story,” he said.

  Sterlin looked about,”I don’t think we’re going anywhere for a while.”

  Cortibis leaned back on one arm, obviously still not convinced.Range suddenly wanted to hear this man’s story. Come on tell.

  The mercenary sat up, crossed his legs and put his elbows on his knees,”When I was younger, my father was a salt merchant.He would go to the canyon, buy the salt and then sell it in the city. He only had one wagon and one donkey. But boy he loaded that wagon up.” He paused for a moment, caught in the moment.”There were a lot of other salt merchants, most had large wagons and lots of them.They kept a solid stream of caravans going from the salt canyon to the city.” He took a drag on his durry.”The money my father made was so little I received clothes once a year and we usually had watery porridge one meal a day.My mother did what she could around the city to make more money, but she had a clubbed foot and no skills to sell.Usually they both got home at night, tired and worn out.Sometimes my mother would find extra work and get me a tart from the truck.It was the best thing I ever ate.” He almost smiled.”Anyway, one day my father was driving a load of salt he had just purchased and got stuck in some mud on the road.Along came some of the king’s men. As they rode by my father’s wagon, one of them, as a joke, whacked the back of his wagon with a club.The back of the old wagon cracked and spilled almost all the salt onto the mud.” He paused for a moment, taking another drag,”My father tried all day to get that salt out of that mud and then try to get the mud out of the salt. How do you wash salt?Finally he gave up, left the wagon on the side of the road, and rode the donkey home.

  “When he got home that night, he’d been crying.He told my mother what’d happened to the salt and to the wagon.She cried with him.”He took a long pause, and a few drags from the durry. His hand shook as he pulled the durry from his mouth.”Well my father tried to find work for two weeks and so did my mother.We were kicked out of the hovel we were living in because we’d missed two weeks payment and we had no food.I hated my father for being such a no good peasant, wanting him to have money and power.My mother became very ill. Sleeping out in the cold, with no tent or blankets. We had no money for a healer, so we prayed for her to get better.We hadn’t eaten in almost three days. I walked through town and saw a man selling bread.”He ran his fingers through his hair.”When I smelled that bread I lost my mind, completely lost it.I had to have that bread. It had been three days. If I could get some food into my mother maybe she would be better.” He paused.”No. I’m lying. I wanted the bread for myself.My hunger had taken my mind. My mother was in my head, but she was after me. I came first.

  “I waited until I was certain the vendor was not looking and snuck up behind him to get the bread.Well I wasn’t fast enough and he caught me.”

  “Ouch,” Nicky said.

  “I was too young to throw into the prisons or dungeons, so they made me a slave of
the king.”

  “Which one?”Sterlin asked, through clenched teeth. Pipe smoke streamed about him.

  “Hesh Andard, but I rarely saw him. I was always doing errands for all of his advisors and other servants. I would go with him when he traveled sometimes, but it was not often.

  “Well in Zamek, when you do a crime, you go before an arbiter who decides how long your term of service will be. Apparently, for the crime of stealing a loaf of bread, the term is seven years.”

  “Ooln’s beard!” Sterlin said, taking the pipe from his mouth.

  Cortibis nodded,”While I was in the palace, my mother died. I never saw her after that day I stole the bread.My father disappeared.I don’t know if he died or just left after my mother and I were gone.During my entire time in my enslavement, I thought about nothing but my freedom.I determined that when I was free again, I would never live the life my father did.I would make it.I thought about what I wanted to be when I was freed. I tried to work out how I would make money and have lots of it. But I couldn’t. My father didn’t teach me anything about money or how to make it.Then one day, I was working in the field and a man came walking through.The master of the field asked him who he was and what he wanted. I forget his name, but I remember he said he was a mercenary.He spoke to the angry and rigid field master for a moment. The field manager shook his head constantly until the mercenary pulled out a bag fat with coins, and fished out two silvers for the field master.I couldn’t believe my eyes. Two silvers! In all my father’s work, we only earned four coppers a week.It was then that I knew I wanted to be a mercenary. If they had that much money, then that’s what I was to be.”

  “Wow,” Nicky said.

  “I told you it was a long tale,” Cortibis said. He snuffed the durry out in the dirt and flicked the end of it into the woods. Moments later, Rolin emerged.

  Rolin’s hood had fallen during his hunt and was now around his shoulders. The bright sheen on his bald head was contrasted by his black topknot.

  “Was your search fruitful?” Sterlin asked

  “I saw what might be tracks, but perhaps not. I saw no one, but I had the distinct feeling that someone was near, someone or something not good. If there is someone out there, they are very adept at hiding any trace of their passing.” He pulled his hood up again.

  Range nodded,”Our pursuers?”He was hoping not.Thoughts of the demons played in his mind.He didn’t have too much of the oil left and wasn’t very certain on how much they would need.

  “Perhaps. We must be on our way. I think it wise for us to move onward toward the inn ahead. It will provide us with some safety.”

  “Agreed,” said Range.”Let us be on our way then.”

  They were ever watchful for a possible attack. About mid afternoon they passed a small group of men heading south.The leader of the group said they were beginning their hunt for the three Swords of Saddig.Someone had located one and everyone now had the fever.Range groaned inside. This only further complicated his journey. Now everyone and their brother would be looking in every nook for the Swords.Damn!

  The sun was just beginning to slide down in the west, when they came over a rise and saw the inn. Before them lay a great expanse of trees.From his vantage point Range could look behind and ahead. From both views it appeared the same. The road wound away into the trees never to be seen again.Range reflected on the distance they had come and on the amount left. They were not even halfway to Romus yet.They must hurry. Every moment he felt the danger increasing.

  A cold wind shook them from their brief stop.

  The inn was barely perceptible from where they stood. A healthy plume of smoke jutted from the chimney. From their distance the plume looked to be moving in as if through water, languid in its retreat from the building.

  “I sense a snug night’s succor from a stiff blanket!” Sterlin said.

  “And some piping hot cider!” Chimed Nicodemus. His nose was bright red and drippy.

  “A respite from this relentless wind will be nice,” Miriam said through her scarf.The children had drifted into a snooze.

  They began down the hill and were shortly upon the inn.

  It was larger than the one they had stayed in before.A weathered sign outside dubbed it The Squealing Briggle. A cluster of thatched roof buildings snuggled together around a small intersection of the two dirt roads.A small lantern sat on each corner of the intersection. Sterlin laughed,”This is almost a real town!”

  “What’s a Briggle?” Nicky asked.

  There were a few houses to the north just outside of what Range considered the town proper, a blacksmith and a small supply shop sat to the east.No one was about, it was cold and nightfall was imminent.They parked the wagon and horses outside the inn and Cortibis stood watch.The inside was like every other inn Range had seen. It had a low ceiling reinforced with thick wooden rafters and smelled earthy like a field after rain. A big warm hearth and a lot of tables tossed about occupied most of the room. A three-piece band played on a small stage.Only a few other patrons sat, drinking and eating. Range and Nicodemus pulled two tables together and everyone took a seat.

  A burly looking man burst from the kitchen. He had no hair except for a gray tuft above each ear, and a pudgy face that looked like a baby about to cry. He wiped his sweaty forehead with a towel and stuffed it back into the filthy apron he was wearing. The threadbare apron sported numerous unhealthy looking spots. A sour look fell on Miriam’s face.

  “What can I get fer you folks?” he more sighed than said.

  “What do you have?” asked Sterlin.

  “We got veal, chicken, and goat to eat, and ale, cider or coffee to drink.”

  They ordered.

  “Oh, and we will need lodgings for the night as well,” Sterlin said after placing his order for veal, beans and some hot cider.

  “How many rooms you be needin’?” The innkeeper asked, looking their numbers over.

  “I would say three.”

  “Three it is. I’ll get my boys to get yer rooms ready.” He spun and made for the kitchen.

  “Bit of a sloppy fellow,” Sterlin observed.

  “Aye, I hope his food and drink are clean. Bad food makes you sick every time.” Nicodemus said.He pulled a durry out of his pocket and went to get a light from the fireplace.

  Mel and Zoë were seated on either side of their mother, while Range sat across from them. Zoë looked tired, but Mel looked as if he was enjoying the adventure

  “Zoë, are you sleepy?” Range asked her. The circles under her eyes were deep and dark.

  “Yes, I can’t wait to get upstairs into bed.”

  “Soon. I will tuck you in myself,” he said, leaning over, patting her hand.She gave a tired smile.His heart went out to her. The children were beat. They were reaping what their parent’s sowed. 

  Dinner was served shortly thereafter.The drink was watered down, and the food was bland, but they were satisfied. The shelter of the inn was enough to lift their spirits and they began to laugh and talk merrily.

  “Can you tell us another story?” Mel asked of Sterlin.

  “Not tonight,” Miriam said.

  “Please?” Zoë asked.

  “I would not mind at all,” Sterlin said.

  “Perhaps another time,” Miriam said.

  Sterlin nodded.”Aye.”

  Rolin switched watch and Cortibis came in out of the cold. The sun had set and the night had begun in earnest. Outside the wind had died down.

  The innkeeper offered them shelter for their wagon and their horses, which they accepted.Range locked up the wagon and unhitched his horse. When they were done, Range and Nicodemus went upstairs to rest and relax for one more night, glad to be out of the cold. The innkeep here told them there were no more inns on the way until they reached Rommel. Sterlin, Rolin and Cortibis decided to enjoy the music and some more ale before sleeping.

  Range entered into his room. Miriam and the children were getting ready for bed.Mel was begrudgingly receiving hi
s wash up from his mother while Zoë sat and watched.She was brushing her hair and humming a light tune to herself.

  Miriam turned at Range’s entrance,”Did you get the soap I asked for?”

  Range stopped,”I forgot it.”

  “Can you go and get it for me?”

  “Sure.”

  “Hurry, this bar I am using is almost gone,” she said, rubbing Mel’s neck vigorously.

  “Aye,” he said making for the door.

  “Can I come too father?” Zoë asked.

  “Certainly, if your mother does not mind.”

  “No, go ahead.”

  She hopped up and Range opened the door for her.”After you Miss,” he said, bowing.

  She bowed in response and walked out the door. Range followed closing it with a thud.

  Outside the air was sharp and still, almost refreshing next to the stuffiness inside.As Range and Zoë exited they could see the inn, along with the other four buildings occupying each corner, had the lamps turned up.The center of town was well lit and pleasant looking.Range moved toward the wagon, condensation billowing out with every breath.