Dusk, page 21
Two adults rounded the corner of the nearest home, accompanied by the small, excited children. “Hail, travelers,” called the man. His clothes were distinctly home made, modest, and befitting a man that worked hard. A well-groomed beard adorned his chin, braided to protect it from the duties he performed, and accentuated by the bright white shirt behind it. The woman beside him was slightly better dressed, though her clothing was also handmade. Her bright blonde hair blew elegantly in the breeze, drawing both Ainen and Tavyn’s eyes. If Gnately had to guess, she’d say the humans that approached had changed clothes before rushing out to meet their guests. The illusion had totally succeeded in the eyes of her companions.
“We’re sorry to trespass; you’ve a wonderful settlement, and we don’t wish to disrupt your lives. However, we find ourselves in need of assistance and, given the tragedy that recently befell Port Gandraias, were wondering if we might pay you for passage on board a fishing vessel?” asked Tavyn.
“Oh my,” gasped the woman. “You’re very well spoken for a man of the world,” she added with a smile.
“Don’t mind my wife, we don’t get many visitors out this way,” he said. “Name’s Peter Culgrath, and this is my wife, Larissa.”
“I am Tavyn. This is Gnately, and the big guy is Ainen,” he said.
“You seem nice enough, but unfortunately, our boat is in desperate need of repairs. The Haimleshes don’t really fancy outsiders,” he said, pointing at their home across the street. “They’re nice enough folk once you get to know them, and very good with livestock. But, they don’t own a boat. The Mortdains over there,” he said, pointing down the road, “have a fine vessel, but they’ve been out at sea for weeks. No idea when they’ll return to the dock.”
“What’s wrong with your boat? Maybe we could help?” asked Tavyn.
“Well,” sighed Peter, unsure if he should proceed.
“Hun, look at him!” said Larissa, pointing casually at Ainen. “We don’t need Henry with a big man like that around!”
“She’s right, I guess,” admitted Peter. “What we need is muscle, and you seem to have plenty of it. Mast cracked in a storm a few days back. I barely made it back to shore. We’ve got a new one, but I can’t lift it into place on my own. If you could help get me seaworthy again, I can see about taking you somewhere. Where did you need to go?”
Ainen answered, “North,” at the same time Gnately said, “South.”
Tavyn held his hands in front of his friends, signaling them to stop with a chuckle. “We were originally headed north to catch a ship back south, because Algona has shut Gusarski Cove down to prepare a blockade against Gulthara. Then we found out about the destruction of Port Gandraias, so we just assumed we’d have to head to Lothenheim, but... since we discovered your settlement was here, we hoped we’d be able to pay for an alternative, and save ourselves that walk.”
“Wait, Gandraias was destroyed?” asked Peter.
“Yes, by an evil witch,” said Gnately. “She’s really old, and moves through shadows. I’d say her name, but I really think we shouldn’t.”
“Oh, no!” gasped Larissa. “Piya told me that’s where the Mortdains were headed. Do you think they...” her words trailed off, her brow wrinkled with concern.
“Piya!” called the man over his shoulder.
A young girl exited the house, her curly red hair tied back, bouncing on her left shoulder as she jogged up to them. She was taller than Tavyn, but not by much, and wore a shirt, pants and boots very similar to Peter’s, but had a leather apron over the top of her clothes. “Yes?” she said as she arrived.
“What route were your parents taking?” asked Peter.
“North along the shore to check the lobster cages, then south to Port Gandraias, where they planned to stay on vacation for a time, then out with the solstice tide to catch a marlin, then home, to cure the meat for winter,” she answered.
“I am so sorry,” said Gnately, her tiny voice barely doing the weight of her next statement justice. “I don’t think your parents are going to make it home,” she said. “A terrible tragedy destroyed Port Gandraias, and we believe all those who were in the city at the time.”
The girl’s face went stark white, her eyes filled with tears, and her bottom lip began to quiver. “Mo... momma? And papa?”
Larissa stepped toward the poor girl and pulled her into a hug. Gnately ran up and grabbed on to the poor girl’s thighs, squeezing tightly.
“This is terrible,” lamented Peter. “The Mortdains caught most of the fish we eat. That marlin was going to feed all three families for months.”
“Don’t you fish?” asked Tavyn.
“I mostly deal in shellfish, muscles, and the like; delicacies we sell in the ports. It’s fine eating, but not the kind of eating we’re accustomed to here. Our little community survives on trade. My wife makes our clothes, the coin I make brings in supplies from the south. The Mortdains provide most of our meat, and their coin covers the cost of materials we buy from the north. The Haimleshes handle the livestock and produce, giving us all dairy, vegetables, and eggs. So, yeah... this is going to hit our community quite hard. We just had to buy fresh brick to fix the Haimlesh’s fireplace, and pipe for their wood stove so they wouldn’t freeze during winter. We’ve no coin left to buy the food we need,” said Peter.
“Well,” started Gnately, backing away from Piya. “Ainen can help fix your boat, no problem. And I can help with coin. All we ask is you help us find a way to Pelrigoss.” She opened her purse and revealed the gold within. It was more money than Peter or Larissa had ever seen in one place.
“How... how much are you willing to pay?” gasped Peter.
“Is five gold enough?” asked Gnately. She had no idea what ship passage cost.
“Gnately, is it?” asked Peter. Gnately nodded. “Ten gold would buy my boat outright. You could sail it anywhere you wanted. I’ll even help you fix it before you go. That would let me replace my boat in spring, and still have enough left over to buy food for our community to get us through winter.”
“Eight gold,” said Gnately, stubbornly.
Larissa tugged on her husband’s shirt. He turned back to her for a moment. She nodded at him, then resumed her attempts to comfort Piya.
“Okay, it’s a deal. Eight gold,” he said, sticking his hand out for her to shake. She counted eight gold out of her purse, and shook his hand with the coins sandwiched between their palms.
“Where is the mast?” asked Ainen, eager to get to work.
GNATELY AND Tavyn sat on the Culgrath’s front porch while Peter and Ainen worked to fix the boat. Larissa brought them tea before heading to the Mortdain’s with Piya, who was very distraught and having a hard time coming to grips with the news of Port Gandraias.
“Do you think things will go back to normal?” asked Gnately with a sigh.
“Do tell, what qualifies as normal in your eyes? And while you’re at it, what about our circumstances isn’t normal?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Well, see... now I need to know why you felt the need to ask that! What are you implying?” she retorted.
“As far as I’m aware, you grew up wandering the countryside with a band of miscreants, getting into trouble, and scrounging for food and coin. From where I sit, you’re still wandering the countryside with a band of miscreants, getting into trouble, and scrounging for food and coin,” he laughed.
“Fair point. But my question still stands,” she stated calmly, then took a sip of her tea.
“How? How does your question still stand?” he gasped.
She shrugged.
“Are you just trying to sound intellectual because you think people should sound intellectual while sipping warm tea on a porch overlooking their community on a fine winter afternoon?” he asked.
She shrugged again and took another sip of tea with her pinky out.
“You are too much,” he laughed.
They sat for a few moments in silence, sipping tea, while Gnately fidgeted with her pebble. She looked up at him and back at her stone a few times until he finally noticed what she was doing.
“Something troubling you?” he asked.
“Not really. It’s just... you and Ainen said you felt Pebbly move, and I haven’t yet. I mean, I know I’ve got chubby little hands, but you can still feel things through chubby,” she sighed.
“What on Ayrelon are you-“ started Tavyn.
“Well, it’s like,” she interrupted, then paused to think. “It’s like, maybe it is an egg. And if it’s an egg, and it’s my egg, then why shouldn’t I feel it move? You know? It’d be like if I was pregnant and you felt my baby kick through my tummy, but I didn’t. Like... how would that be fair?”
“I don’t know how it works, okay? Maybe Ainen and I are both delusional, and it’s just a stupid rock like you said in the first place,” he said. “Hell, you’ve seen what’s going on with Ainen’s skin. Maybe he’s magical, and it only moves when it’s near his magic?”
“What is going on with his skin? And why haven’t we discussed that yet? Doesn’t it seem a bit concerning?”
“You mean the fact that our friend, the former slave, who we really know nothing about, is somehow turning to stone whenever he gets wounded?” asked Tavyn. “I have trouble thinking of anything else, actually.”
“You think he’s really turning to stone?” asked Gnately as she slipped the pebble back into her pouch.
“While he was unconscious, I touched his cheek. It’s very, very tough. Too tough. I tapped it with the tip of my dagger just to see and it clinked, just like stone. Something very strange is going on,” he said.
“Well, have you talked to him about it?” she asked.
“He hasn’t seen his own face yet, so I don’t think he really knows what’s going on. I’ve been trying to figure out how to bring it up, and I just keep putting it off,” he said.
Gnately finished the rest of her tea and got up. She surveyed the area for a brief second, then turned toward Tavyn again. “I think we should go check on Ainen, see if we’re going to set off tonight, or if we need to make camp somewhere.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Tavyn, setting his tea aside.
As they walked down the path toward the docks, they could hear yelling coming from inside the Mortdain home. Ever the curious one, Gnately immediately ran for the door and listened. Tavyn slowly walked up behind her, much less curious, and more worried they were going to cause more harm than good.
“They were my parents! That makes this my home! Besides, you don’t even know if they’re dead! What if they come back tomorrow?” yelled Piya.
“This house belongs to the community, not your parents. If you want to be technical about it, the land-use deed registered with Lord Vaelin clearly states that all this land belongs to my husband! So, if your parents have passed, and they have, then this home returns to our control, and that includes everything inside!” yelled Larissa.
“You’re going to kick me onto the street in the middle of winter because some strangers told you my parents died in an entirely different city? With no proof?” growled Piya.
Gnately finished picking the lock on the door and slowly pushed it open. Tavyn hadn’t even noticed her doing it. She looked back at him and waved her hand toward the floor, asking him to sneak. He sighed and pushed past her, certain that sneaking was the last thing they should be doing.
“Did I just hear what I thought I heard?” asked Tavyn as he barged into the room.
“I was simply explaining to the girl that this house belongs to us now, not her. She’s too young to manage property, run a fishing business and pay her portion of the taxes. We must take ownership of the home and rent it to someone more capable. It’s a simple business matter, and none of your concern,” said Larissa.
Tavyn reached up and brushed the dried mud off the insignia on his armor. It had been a convincing enough mark for Royce to mistake him for an Algonan soldier, so he hoped it would work on a woman such as Larissa. She took notice of the symbol and immediately backed away and calmed herself.
“I’m so sorry, my Lord. I didn’t know,” she said sheepishly, her head bowed.
“I’m sure Lord Vaelin will be interested to know what you’re doing here. Forcing a young girl out on the streets to fend for herself, and laying false claim to her family home? I don’t think he’s overseen a case as scandalous as this in some time. You might even make the Gusarski Herald. You’ll be famous,” Gnately said, taking the lead. She walked up beside Tavyn with a wry smile, her small, pudgy arms crossed determinedly.
“Would you like to press charges, Piya?” Tavyn asked, following Gnately’s lead.
“I most certainly would!” she yelled angrily.
“Keep it calm, keep it calm. There’s no reason to let our emotions win the day,” he said. “Is there, Mrs. Culgrath?”
“My lord, what can we do to make this whole thing go away?” asked Larissa, looking up toward him timidly.
“Are you trying to bribe me?” he quipped.
“Oh no, never. I wouldn’t dare,” said Larissa, bowing her head again.
“Gnately? Do you really want to travel all the way back to Gusarski right now?” he asked, his eyes still locked on Larissa.
“Not particularly. Seems like we just left. Hunted down that goblin horde like Vaelin asked, had our leisure time, and now we should be headed to Pelrigoss to gather intelligence on Gultharan activities... I’d hate to disappoint our liege,” she answered.
“But if duty dictates we return, then we should return, yes? Even if we don’t want to?” he asked.
“I mean... if the Culgraths saw fit to help us serve our Lord Vaelin, then perhaps their act would be enough to allow us to overlook one minor unsavory act,” suggested Gnately.
“We’ll give you back your gold. Keep the boat, and take your gold. That is fair, right?” gasped Larissa.
“Eight gold for a house, and what... five acres of land?” scoffed Gnately.
“Twenty acres, my Lady,” said Piya.
“We don’t have anything else!” cried Larissa.
“You have Algrim’s armament!” said Piya. “It’s sitting on full display in your smoking den. He wasn’t much bigger than I am. It should fit just fine, with a little modification.”
“Peter would never give up his father’s armor or weapons!” argued Larissa.
“So he’d rather go to prison and lose his land?” asked Tavyn.
“Well... no,” sighed Larissa. “I don’t think he would.”
“Is Algrim’s armament fair trade for your parents’ home, Piya?” asked Tavyn, crossing his arms.
“Yes. Not sure I’d want to come back here anyway, with this turn of attitude,” said Piya.
“Fine. Gather your things. You’ll come with us, and we’ll help you find a new home after we return from our mission. As to you, Larissa, the house and land are yours, as you wished. Your payment is the armament, our gold, and the boat,” said Tavyn. “Do this, and Lord Vaelin need never hear of your actions here. Instead, he will hear that you helped his agents in a mission of great importance.”
“Yes, my lord,” said Larissa and she sulked her way out of the house, defeated.
“I think I love you,” gasped Piya. “Can we... can we go north and see if my parents are alive?”
“We certainly can, Piya,” answered Gnately, drawing a stern look from Tavyn. “What? We can!”
“No, it’s fine. I guess I’m just still adjusting to your version of ‘normal’, is all,” he said.
“You love me. You know you do,” she grinned.
Piya pointed to the kitchen. “We’ll need food for the journey, won’t we? Take what we need. They’ll just steal it anyway,” she sighed. “I’ll be back down in a minute,” she added as she bounded up the stairs.
“I like her,” said Gnately. “She’s like me, but human, and her parents are dead, and she grew up in a house instead of roaming a field, and her parents earned an honest income rather than teaching her the fine art of thievery.”
“So she’s not like you at all,” said Tavyn, nodding, as he loaded a sack with dried goods.
“Precisely,” said Gnately, nodding. “That’s why I like her!”
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he laughed.
Gnately looked up at him and smiled, then nodded eagerly and exited the room, her arms wrapped around a very large round of cheese.
Piya joined them on the porch a half hour later, dragging two sacks. They waited patiently while Larissa brought Algrim’s equipment, one piece after another, taking as much time as she could with the process.
By the time Peter and Ainen returned from the dock, all of Algrim’s gear was lying on the Mortdain stoop, and Larissa was pacing frantically beside the well. Peter rushed over to her in a mild state of panic, then turned angrily toward the group and strode over. Tavyn watched, waiting for just such a response.
“Evening,” said Tavyn, coldly.
“What the fuck is the meaning of this?” yelled Peter, pointing at his father’s armor.
“Ask your wife,” said Gnately.
“You waited for me to leave her side to throw Lord Vaelin’s name around and steal our belongings? I’ll have you hung!” bellowed the man.
“She tried to lay claim to the Mortdain estate, and we caught her. She was going to cast Piya out on the streets to starve, and die... in the cold... while you lived fat and happy on profits from renting this house out to someone new. So, if you want to talk about thieves, look to your own house first,” said Tavyn, his hand moving to the small of his back just in case.
“Is this true?” Peter asked, swinging back around to face his wife. Instead of responding, she buried her face in her hands and ran back to their house.
“This equipment will go on to serve Lord Vaelin on our mission. It is a donation from your wife, in trade for the Mortdain estate. It will also ensure we have no motivation to tell Lord Vaelin about your wife’s intentions of kicking Piya out into the wilds to fend for herself,” said Tavyn.
