Styx & Stones, page 80
part #1 of Tales of the El Defensor Series
“Rosalyine.” Richard broke the silence. “It is only me; there is no need for you to breathe your spells.”
“Richard.” The voice came out of the shadows, everywhere and nowhere all at once. “What brings you here this fine day? I sense you are nervous and worried.”
“I have a problem.” The monk began. “Travellers have come to take me away from your people. To take away all I have been granted. I need you to make them go away or let me use the gem so that they never threaten us again.”
“You know the rules Richard. The gem can be used only once.” Her voice had a cold edge to it, her response to his question harsh as if she were annoyed in his being here. “You have already been granted your heart’s desire. You asked for a church of your own and an attentive congregation that would come at your call. You have been granted all of this and more. If I had foreseen what your desire would result in, the distress it is causing my people, I would never have allowed you access to my husband’s heart.”
“But I have never harmed your people.” The monk replied shuffling his feet uncomfortably. “I am there for them in their hour of need; I offer guidance, a sense of belonging. I have harmed no one.”
“How dare you.” Rosalyine’s voice rumbled from the darkness. “How can you have the gall to stand before me and even suggest such a thing? I may live in the darkness, but I am not blind. Do you not see the harm you do when you take away their free will, their right to choose? Open your eyes Richard. Your heart’s desire is killing them.”
“There are others here that will do much worse.” Richard replied. “They are coming to take me away with them, coming to punish me for running away from the order. Abbot Brialin’s wrath will be immense. I am afraid Rosalyine, and I do not know what to do.”
There was a rattle in the darkness, a sense of something huge sliding across the floor.
“Afraid.” Rosalyine scoffed. “You know nothing of being afraid.”
“What can I do?” Richard moaned. “How can I get away from the Bearer and his knights?”
The voice from the darkness took her time replying, having listened, considered and judged the request before her.
“You will do what all men do Richard. You will be selfish and fickle, you will look after your own interests and you will die.”
“I will what!” Richard screamed, walking into the shadows towards the sounds of the movement he heard. “I will not accept that. I need to use the gem. I need to make them go away. That is my heart’s wish now, not what I asked for before.”
“As I predicted.” Rosalyine replied. “Fickle.” There was a louder rasp of scale on tile, as the creature moved, and then an unexpected flare of red light from below the far side of the platform cast a warm ruddy glow over the entire area bathing the monk in its crimson light.
Richard felt the heat despite the protection gained from his holy symbol, but he continued to walk resolutely towards the shimmering light, only to watch something ripple and slide across the front of it like sunlight through a warped glass window.
A huge crash to the left indicated the creature was shifting position again, but Richard was determined. He approached the edge of the platform, watching the ripple reduce in size as it slid before him. He knew it was Rosalyine’s crystal tail and chose to ignore it. The monk looked down over the edge of the platform at the lava fields below and the series of tall magical pillars that hovered above the liquid magma churning there. He marvelled anew at how the massive monoliths reduced in height and acted like a giant flight of stairs, winding gently down towards the ruined temple that stood at their end, surrounded by liquid fire.
The heat was uncomfortable from this vantage point, but Richard knew it would get worse before he reached the bottom of the causeway. He moved to step out onto the stone, only to feel something cold, curved, and extremely sharp land on his shoulder.
“You will not take another step.” Rosalyine warned.
“Or you will do what?” Richard snapped back. “I know the rules as well as you do. No one is to be harmed on this island. I bring no weapon and I am unarmed. You cannot hurt me I am one of your people.”
“You are not one of my people Richard.” She replied. “You never have been, and you never will be. You have hurt my people with your wish. You could have had a congregation that loved you over time, respected you and used you as their confidant in times of strive. Instead, you wanted your recognition and position right away, no matter what the cost. I cannot take back the wish my husband’s heart granted but I will be damned if I will let you use the gem again.”
The stones of the floor shook as something large and heavy slammed into them. There was a warning growl and a shriek from the floor as something clawed across the surface. Pieces of masonry crashed down around the monk as something unseen hit the high ceiling many feet above.
Richard moved to step forward, but the pressure on his shoulder increased as the massive claw pushed determinedly downwards. He had the unpleasant choice of bending over to the side or risk losing his arm as the crystal bit into his flesh. His eyes went wide at the sudden realisation that Rosalyine was actually considering harming him. The fear flared inside him, real and terrifying.
“Be gone from here Richard. You are no longer welcome. You made your choices in life, now live with them.”
Ashe was bored.
Well not exactly bored per se. He had finished his work on the necklace and had been all excited to return it to Colette, only to discover that she had gone wandering into the village. Therefore, determined to seek her out, he had gone to look for her, leaving her repaired necklace on her pillow for her to find later. Only when he got to the village there were no villagers there, just groups of the crew looking up at the church perched on the hill and muttering amongst themselves.
He had been about to ask one of the crew if they had seen Colette when he had come across an open door. Clearly the owner of the establishment would not have been happy at this clear lapse of security, so Ashe had wandered in purely to have a kind word, check that the door lock was working and suggest security upgrades to prevent any future break ins.
After several minutes of examining some beautiful kiln blasted pottery and little ceramic animals, several of which, shaped like cute bunnies, decided to hop into his pocket and come along for an adventure, Ashe decided the owner of the shop was not home. He had politely left, locking the door behind him only to discover the shop next to it was also open and left shockingly unattended. What was it with these people? Had they no conception of the terrible things that could happen to shop merchandise if there was no one there to make sure things were safe?
The sweet rolls were very tasty and would have probably spoilt or been eaten by passing stray dogs, so Ashe was very glad he could put them to their full potential. The little dagger he found in the blacksmiths was clearly too valuable to leave lying around, and in another shop there were some sweet candies on the counter that were just to die for.
A loud cry of distress froze the halfling in place just as he was about to try on a set of clothes for size and he realised that time simply had slipped away from him. He exited the latest shop with serious security issues, only to notice the villagers had all considered the error of their ways and were now coming back down the hill along the main street. This was a good thing, because Ashe simply was not able to act as a guard for all of these establishments at once, so he was relieved that he could now walk away and let them take care of their properties for themselves.
Another wail tore his gaze from a particularly fetching scarf that had been carelessly left unattended, to observe a villager crying in horror at the state of her basket of overturned goods lying crushed in the street. She fell to her knees sobbing, as if she had suffered some ailment or great grief and tried to pick up her belongings, but her smashed eggs were dripping yolk and shell through the weave of the basket and her produce ruined where it had rolled in the gutter.
The halfling could not understand why the woman was complaining. What did she expect when she left her food in the middle of the street? Of course, it would be ruined! Ashe knew as well as anyone that you should never carry all of your eggs in one basket!
He watched for a few moments more as the woman looked around her apparently confused as to why her items were in this state, and as he watched other villagers completed their own journeys down the mountain and started to get upset too.
This was not a good sign. Ashe was aware that when people got upset and he was around, they normally always looked in his direction and decided that he was to blame, even when all he was trying to do was help. As such, he removed a pair of long black gloves from his arms, kicked his way free from a large pair of boots several sizes too big for him, and decided that it was time to explore the sea front and put these people well behind him.
The sea front had held only a few minor distractions. A big spindly crab that popped in and out of its shell as it slid across the sand and got agitated when Ashe poked it with a big stick. A few deep green pebbles worn clear by the motion of the waves; and finally some seaweed that when split and blown through, made strange noises like Marcus did when he slept after eating Violetta’s bean stew.
Now where was he? Oh yes, he was bored.
The halfling looked behind him back towards the village and the hubbub that was only just starting to ease, then along the coastline and the pale yellow strip of sand at his feet towards an old boathouse that looked like one good puff of air would send the whole structure falling into the sea.
It did not look promising for a place of high adventure. Nothing in there but dust and mouldy fish!
A large seagull landed on an exposed groyne, and cawed loudly in warning at the halfling’s trespass on its territory. Ashe looked at the webbed leathery feet, the huge sharp beak and the wide powerful wings. An excited thought came to him.
“Hi.” He opened, walking towards the bird and extending his hand. “My name is Ashe and I am going to have a bird soon just like you called Sinders. I am very excited abou…”
The seagull squawked in annoyance as the halfling moved too close for comfort, and took to the sky in a sharp beat of its wings, soaring a few feet before landing on the yellow sand. Ashe stood hands on hips indignant at the lack of communication and set off to continue his conversation.
“As I was saying my bird Sinders will be this bi… Oh mouldy carrots. I just want to ask your advice on some baby bird rearing matters. Won’t you sit still and let me finish?”
The seagull tilted its head watching Ashe run towards it once again after another brief escape from gravity ensured the proper respectful distances were kept. Ashe refused to give up and gave chase, running this way and that all over the beach, before he realised the gull was not a good conversationalist and did not really care about his new imminent avian arrival.
He stopped running, putting his little hands on his legs and hanging his head to catch his breath, then looked up and realised the boathouse was now a lot closer. Very close in fact, and if he was not mistaken, he could hear some building work going on inside.
Putting the seagull from his mind, Ashe pootled across the sand and walked up to the nearest window, he dropped to his knees, putting his nose up against the glass and peered inside. There was a ship in there, another ship! Instant thoughts of Ashe the pirate captain sprang to mind, more treasure to find, more wenches to seduce. Then he paused. This was unfortunate, just when he thought he had found something to pass the day he realised people were walking about inside the shed doing the repairs
So much for a life of excitement. He pulled himself to his feet. It was time to get back to the El Defensor and see the crew. Maybe Colette had come back?
Something came down over the halfling’s head plunging him into darkness.
“What in the world!” he exclaimed, coughing at the taste of mouldy fish and dust that was lining the bottom of the sack that was over his head. A swift kick to the mid-section whooshed the air from the little thief and he sank back to the floor wheezing for breath.
“That wasn’t nice.” He gasped, getting another swift kick as a reward for his opinion.
“Shut up!” came a voice made all of gravel and broken glass.
“That’s not very nice either.” Ashe confirmed, gaining an additional smack to the back of the head that made him see stars. He felt himself lifted up into the air and hoisted over someone’s shoulder.
This was not the kind of adventure Ashe had been looking for.
There were several steps up and down, the banging and sawing got louder and suddenly he found himself deposited roughly into a chair and his hands tied behind his back. The sack came off his head leaving the halfling coughing and squinting in the light.
Another chair was opposite him and in it sat a large man with something metallic on his face where his nose should be. Ashe took in the sight of the man, the rings on his fingers, the pudgy jaw, the swept over hair. If he did not know better, he would have sworn that he was looking at Atticus Couqran, the guild master from Catterick, except for the metal nose that was. That man was a danger to doing business in Catterick and had been a constant concern to the halfling in his old life a world away. Indeed, there had been some real close scrapes when Atticus had almost caught him poaching on his guild territory. Then there was the incident with the statue of the silver ship. Well, he was sure that was long forgotten by now. Ashe knew Atticus actively discouraged ‘incidents’, often with broken limbs and accidental falls onto sharp objects.
The man grinned wickedly in his direction, as a little puppy dog padded over to Ashe’s chair, cocked its leg and deposited a stream of urine down the chair leg. Several laughs from unseen figures behind him, meant observers were finding this animal’s antics amusing. Ashe just hoped none of it was dribbling into his shoes.
“Hello,” Ashe started. “I’m Ashe…”
“Wolfsdale.” Answered the man who looked really, really like Atticus the mad evil guild master who Ashe had always tried to stay as far away from as possible.
“So you know my name.” Ashe shrugged, his mind trying to put it all together and not liking the answer he was getting. The figure in the chair got to his feet and moved closer. The resemblance to Atticus was uncanny. Who would have thought the man had a twin on the other side of the ocean? The man reached into his pocket and brought out a long handled dagger that he pointed at Ashe in the most unfriendly way.
“Have you broken any more statues recently?” He asked, making the halfling’s innocent face crease with confusion. “Why are you so far from home, Ashe?”
“Do I know you?” Ashe replied, trying desperately to understand what was going on. “I once knew someone just like you, but they didn’t have that lump of metal where their nose should be.”
“Don’t get sharp with me lad.” The man threatened, waving his blade and moving it closer to Ashe’s chest. “Tell me what you know about the El Defensor. What is she doing here and what is her crew and complement?”
“I’m sorry but I do not think that is something Thomas Adams would like you to know.” Ashe shot back adamant in the fact. “Now put the knife down and let me go before my friend Sticks finds out, or you will wish you had never been born.” Laughs echoed around the open space as the man leaned forward, and a foul smell wafted over the halfling.
“Oh boy!” Ashe wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Can you back up a bit? Something smells a little ripe around here.” The cut was delivered so quick Ashe never realised until a few seconds after the injury was administered.
“What are you? Hey I’m bleeding what did you do that for?”
“Now I have your undivided attention, why don’t you tell me all about the El Defensor,” Atticus Couqran leant forward, filling the halfling’s vision as he slowly spoke with a voice filled with menace and the promise of more pain to come. “Tell me about her crew, why she is here, and especially about Styx. I really, really want to know where Styx is, as we have so much unfinished business to talk about.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
If Thomas found himself impressed by the ambience of the Vane Arms during the day, in the evening it simply stole his breath away. The inn hummed with energy, laughter and a nurturing warmth. The tantalising aromas of the food set his mouth watering. Villagers packed the mill to the rafters, from the youngsters sitting by the fire listening to magically spun folk tales, to the eldest spinster’s toe tapping to folk tunes from musicians close around. Tonight the inn was especially boisterous, as the majority of the crew of the El Defensor were invited as guests of honour, an open invite from Charleton to make up for the poor service, he believed, he had shown earlier.
Lantern lights set within the mill illuminated everything with a warm welcoming glow, reflecting off bottles hoisted to customers in the rafters and glinting off brass ornaments that added to the sparkling image before his eyes. It made Thomas think fondly of the fairy stories he had heard as a child. The whole place looked like something from one of these stories, mysterious welcoming and intriguing all at once.
Thomas had left a skeleton crew manning the ship. Rauph had stayed for obvious visible reasons and Scrave was apparently unwell and had remained in his cabin. The captain made a mental note to send Violetta to check on him when they returned.
Rowan was delighted to accompany Thomas to the inn that evening but as they entered, the ladies of the village intercepted her, whisking her away and out of sight behind one of the larger curtained alcoves in a fit of giggles. Thomas found himself looking at his newly vacant hand with a fond longing, wishing he could have extended the pleasure of her company. From the sounds behind the curtain, Rowan seemed to be enjoying herself but when Thomas tried to look he encountered a stern wagging finger from the shopkeeper Constance and recognising an offensive weapon when he saw one he wisely stepped away.
