Read Brian S. Pratt's Worlds of Fantasy Box Set Page 38


  By the time they made it back to Quillim, the night was almost gone. Off to the east, dawn’s first light had begun to creep back into the world and the town lay quiet in the burgeoning morning. As they made their way through the streets to the mill, the only sound to disturb the silence was the clip-clop of their horses’ hooves and the occasional cry of a dog.

  Chad reached around and shook his brother awake, he had fallen asleep behind him some time ago. “We’re back,” he told him. He felt his brother pull himself up from where he had been lying against his back for the last few hours.

  “Hope it works,” Eryl said sleepily.

  “It will,” he replied.

  As they continued to work their way through town, Chad thought about how worried his parents had to have been. His note only said they would be back a little after dark, not the next morning. But once the stone has been fixed, all would be forgiven.

  Out of the dark ahead, the giant arms of the mill came into view. They turned slowly in an early morning breeze. “Want me to come in with you?” Bart asked.

  “Yeah,” replied Chad, “I’d like that.”

  Bart nodded and together the three of them rode to the mill and dismounted before the front door. “Eryl,” Chad said, “watch the horses.”

  “But I want to come in too,” he pleaded.

  “Just stay out here,” his brother told him. Eryl didn’t look too happy but nodded and did as his brother wished.

  Then with Bart, he entered the mill. Chad lit a candle that was sitting on a small table just within the doorway to dispel the darkness. When the light filled the mill, he saw where his father had already begun to dismantle the frame that held the upper grinding stone in place. Wooden sections of the frame were stacked in a neat pile against the side of the mill.

  He took out the scroll and walked to the grinding wheels. “Place it over the cracked area,” suggested Bart.

  “Yeah, I was going to do that,” he replied. Moving around the stones, he located the area with the crack and placed the scroll on top of it. Stepping back, he glanced to Bart with a grin. Then he turned his attention back to the scroll and said the activating word, “Critnyx”.

  The scroll flared with a yellow glow just as the other one had back in Phyndyr’s. Only this time, the stone began to glow with the same yellow hue. Chad and Bart moved closer to better observe as the crack in the stone began to fuse together. The glow continued for a few more seconds after the crack was completely mended, then it went out.

  “It worked!” he hollered in jubilation.

  “Of course it worked,” Bart said. “Phyndyr’s scrolls always work.”

  Chad caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Eryl standing in the doorway. “The stone is mended little brother,” he said triumphantly.

  Eryl stood there staring at the grinding stone without responding. The look on his face was not one of happiness or jubilation, rather it was a look of trepidation. “Chad…” he said then grew silent again.

  “What?” his brother asked, his own good mood beginning to be dampened by that of his brother.

  “The stones,” he said and pointed to the grinding wheel.

  Chad looked at the stone but couldn’t see anything wrong. “It all looks okay to me,” he said.

  Bart stepped back and that’s when his face fell too. His eyes flicked to Chad. Grabbing his tunic, Bart pulled Chad back away from the stone so he could see it in its entirety.

  “Oh my lord,” he breathed when realization finally came. The scroll had worked alright, but it had worked too well. When he had activated the scroll, its magic had worked to seek out and repair any cracks in the stone. Somehow the magic must have considered the gap between the bottom stone and the top as a crack as well, for the crack had been ‘fixed’. The two stones were now fused together.

  “What are we going to do?” Chad asked. Crestfallen and in fear of what his father will do to him, he stood there and began to tremble.

  “He’s going to kill you,” Eryl said. Not in the literal meaning, but Chad’s life won’t be worth spit when his father learned about this. Not only had he gone against his father’s wishes, but he made the situation worse.

  Chad collapsed into a nearby chair and stared at the single massive wheel. An errant breeze blew through the mill and some of the dust that once had been the scroll was picked up and carried away. Visions of his family destitute and impoverished because of this played through his mind. He had only wanted to help.

  Then from outside, footsteps could be heard approaching. Eryl stuck his head out the door to see who it was and brought it back in quickly. Turning to look at Chad with a frightened expression on his face he said, “It’s father.”

  “Man you’ve got to get out of here,” encouraged Bart.

  “Come on Chad,” Eryl said as he raced across to the door in the back.

  Shaking his head, Chad said, “No. I can’t run from this.” He then turned to Bart and his brother. “You two shouldn’t be here though.” As the footsteps drew ever nearer, he pantomimed them leaving and said in a hushed whisper, “Now!”

  Bart nodded and with Eryl leading the way, they left a split second before Chad’s father entered the mill.

  His father’s face upon seeing him was one of elation as he had been worried about him all night long. Bags under his eyes showed that he hadn’t had any sleep. Chad stood up and turned to face his father. Bracing himself for what was to come he said, “Father…”

  Riyan had pushed the flock relentlessly all the way home. The coin he had found was a constant companion as he continued staring at it, rubbing his fingers over it, and dreamt of the untold wealth that lay buried in a passage no man had trod in for ages.

  At some point he came to the realization that if there were enough down there, he might be able to change the mind of Freya’s father. If he were rich enough, he was sure that the betrothal between Rupert and Freya would be annulled in favor of him.

  He knew that he had some time before they would get married, as custom dictated that the betrothal must last a minimum of three months. That was to give the prospective couple a chance to get to know each other, and for their families to ensure this was in fact a good match. Though a broken betrothal was an extreme humiliation to the one being left and should only be undertaken under the direst of circumstances.

  Quillim came into sight around midafternoon. The sheep had been voicing all morning their desire to stop and graze. He allowed them two brief stops to assuage their hunger, then it was back to the trail.

  He angled the flock to skirt the town until he came to his home. When the sheep saw that they were to be put into the pen, they complained most heartily. Black Face was the worst. After all the others had gone into the pen, he bolted for freedom. Riyan had to chase him down and carry him back. Once Black Face was in the pen with the others, he shut and locked the gate.

  “You’re back early,” his mother said as she came up behind him.

  He turned to find her with a basket full of roots and leaves that have been a staple of their diet for as long as he could remember. Smiling, he replied, “I got over it and realized I didn’t really want to be alone.”

  All the way back he had debated about whether to tell his mother of his discovery or not. He finally decided that she would only worry and that it would be best to come home with the treasure in hand before informing her.

  When he saw her arc her eyebrows in question, he added, “Thought about going for a campout with Chad and Bart. Don’t worry,” he said before she could start objecting, “I can get Davin to watch the flock while I’m gone. He owes me.”

  Just then Chad’s brother Eryl appeared running towards him. “You’re back!” he exclaimed.

  “Figured that out did you?” joked Riyan. Then he noticed how Eryl’s eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot. His mood sobering quickly, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Father’s kicked Chad out!” he said.

  “What?” Riy
an asked in disbelief. “Why?”

  Then Eryl went into the story of how the earthquake damaged the grinding wheel and of Chad’s idea in fixing it. Finally, he wound it up with the two grinding wheels becoming fused together and his father kicking Chad out. “He’s staying with Bart right now,” he explained.

  Riyan turned to his mother and said, “I better go see him.” He gave her a quick kiss and then rushed off towards where Bart stayed with old lady Rebecca.

  Eryl accompanied him for a short time until he saw Rupert and his cronies standing against the side of a building talking up ahead. When he saw them, he mumbled some excuse to Riyan then bolted the other way.

  Riyan saw them too and altered his course to put more distance between them.

  “Hey!” he heard on the cronies yell. “Look who’s back!” Then Rupert moved away from the wall and hurried to meet him.

  Riyan could see the set of his face and knew the meeting was going to be bad. So he altered his course even further and ran as fast as he could in an attempt to flee.

  “Stop, Riyan!” Rupert yelled at him but he ignored the command. Instead, he tried to move even faster.

  Then all of a sudden, something struck the back of his legs. Losing his balance, he fell to the ground and hit hard. In a second, they were on him. Fists struck and feet kicked as he curled himself up into a ball in an attempt to keep the blows from doing any serious damage.

  “You keep your nose out from between me and Freya!” Rupert yelled as he kicked him even harder.

  Several more blows landed before they stopped. Riyan looked up at his tormentors and saw Rupert standing there, staring down at him. “You meddle in this again and I’ll kill you,” Rupert threatened. “Do I make myself clear?”

  Riyan wasn’t sure what he was talking about and was trying to make sense of it in his mind. Then another kick struck his back as a crony said, “He asked you a question.”

  “Yes!” he cried. “I understand.”

  “Good,” Rupert said. “Let’s go boys.” Then he and the others left him lying there in the street as they walked off.

  Riyan felt something trickling out of his nose and wiped it with his hand only to discover it was blood. Looking around, he saw several townsfolk standing there watching. When his eyes met theirs, they lowered theirs to the ground and moved off. Not one of them came and offered him any aid.

  He pushed himself off the ground and back to his feet. Checking his nose again, he found the blood had stopped flowing. He did a quick self examine and found nothing broken, but he’s sure that he’ll feel it tomorrow. Moving off, he resumed his trek to Bart’s place, albeit this time at a much more moderate pace.

  When he arrived at old lady Rebecca’s, he found Chad and Bart working to dig out an old stump. They stopped when they saw him coming. Throwing down their shovels, they ran over to him.

  “What happened to you?” Bart asked when he saw the state he was in. Hair disheveled, a bruise beginning to form on his arm, and dried blood around his nose all said something bad had happened.

  “Ran into Rupert,” he explained.

  “Man I’m sorry about that,” he replied.

  “It’s not your fault,” Riyan assured him.

  “Well, actually it is,” Bart said. Then he went into a brief explanation of the escapade he and Chad had undergone to mess with Rupert. “If I would have known this was going to happen, I never would have done it.”

  Riyan grinned and said, “If you caused him any anxious moments, it was worth it.” Then he turned to Chad. “Ran into Eryl.”

  “Oh, you heard then?” he asked.

  Riyan nodded. “What exactly happened?”

  His tale and the one Riyan had heard from Eryl were pretty much the same until he came to the part when his father entered the mill. “When he saw the two fused slabs, I thought I was dead,” he admitted. “He even went so far as to ball his fist like he was going to strike me, which is something he’s never done.”

  He went silent a moment and Riyan could see the emotions running through him as he gathered the words to continue. When he turned sad eyes that were welling tears towards him, he said, “Then my father looked like he just deflated. I don’t know how else to describe it. It almost seemed like the life went out of him.”

  “I was expecting an argument, even a beating, but not that.” His voice grew very quiet as he said, “He didn’t even look at me. Just turned his back and walked out.” Tears began to well in earnest as he internally relived the experience. “I tried to follow but he just shook his head. ‘Leave, Chad,’ he said. ‘Just go.’”

  Emotions took over and he couldn’t continue. Neither Riyan nor Bart knew what to do other than stand there and wait until it was over. “I was waiting outside when he came out,” Bart told him. “Later, I took him back to his home so he could reconcile things, but his father wouldn’t even talk to him. His mother came out and told him that his father didn’t want him around anymore. Frankly I couldn’t understand his father’s reaction.” He glanced to Riyan and added, “It seemed a bit too extreme.”

  “I can’t go home!” Chad cried out. Grabbing onto Riyan he asked, “What am I to do?”

  Bart looked at Riyan over Chad’s shoulder and said, “I offered to let him stay here. Rebecca won’t mind.”

  Riyan placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder and said, “Don’t worry. I’m sure that once your father has had a chance to cool down, he’ll reconsider.”

  “So do I,” agreed Bart. “Maybe you need to get out of town for awhile, give him some time to get over it. The heat of the moment is never a good time to settle anything. My father always said, ‘Hot heads lead to anger, cool minds lead to reason’.”

  Riyan nodded. “True words.” He then glanced to Chad then to Bart, “Why don’t we go on a camping trip? Give your father the time he’ll need to cool down.”

  “That might not be a bad idea,” agreed Bart. Patting Chad on the back, he asked, “How about it?”

  Shrugging, Chad said, “Sure. It’s not like I have anything else to do anymore.”

  “Great!” said Riyan. “Just get your things and we’ll head out right away.”

  Chad’s face fell again when he realized he’ll have to go to his home to get his camping equipment. Turning to Bart, he asked, “Can you go find Eryl and have him get my stuff? I don’t think it would be wise for me to return.”

  “No problem,” he agreed.

  Riyan then said, “Chad, why don’t you return with me to my home and we’ll wait for Bart there?”

  “Okay, sure,” he replied.

  “Meet you there,” Bart told them. “Need to tell Rebecca she’ll have to wait another couple of days before I can work on the stump again. I’ll be at your place as quickly as I can.”

  It took Bart the better part of an hour before he arrived at Riyan’s home, Eryl was with him. Eryl had managed to sneak out all the things Chad would need for a campout; bedroll, cooking pots, bowls, etc. He even managed to bring along a lantern.

  “Thanks Eryl,” he said. “Is father any better?”

  Shaking his head, he replied, “No. I’ve never seen him like this before.”

  Sighing, Chad grabbed his brother and held him a moment. Eryl looked stunned, maybe even on the verge of panic at this display of affection. Quickly disengaging himself, he said, “I wish I could go with you, but I think it would be better for me to stay around. That way I can remind father what a loss not having you around is going to be.”

  “I appreciate that,” his brother said. “Just don’t go overboard on it.”

  “I won’t,” he assured him. “I best be getting back, it’s almost lunch.”

  “See ya,” Chad said then watched as Eryl raced down the lane.

  Riyan’s mother had packed plenty of food for them and they distributed it among their three packs. Between them, they were taking two lanterns and two small bladders of lantern oil. The other two looked questioningly at Riyan but he just grinned and shrugged.
“Never know what may happen,” he explained. “One could break.”

  “You boys be careful now,” Riyan’s mother said. “And Chad, I’m sure your father will come to see reason before your return.”

  “I hope so,” he replied.

  Riyan shouldered his pack and announced, “Let’s go. Found this new area while out with the sheep that I think you both are going to like.”

  As they headed out, Riyan gave his mother a peck on the cheek. Riyan brought his shepherd’s staff for a walking stick, the other two didn’t feel the need for one. They walked in silence until they entered the hills and Riyan’s home disappeared behind them.

  “I think this is just what I need,” Chad said. Already his mood seemed to be improving.

  “To tell you both the truth, I had planned on asking you two on a campout even before discovering what happened between you and your father Chad,” Riyan said. He glanced around to make sure they were alone and pulled the coin he found out of his pouch. “What do you two make of this?”

  He handed it first to Bart who looked it over then gave it to Chad. “Looks old,” commented Bart. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen similar markings on any other coin before.”

  Chad nodded. “Me either.” After carefully looking at it, he handed it back to Riyan. “So where did you find it?”

  “In a hole in the ground,” he explained. He then went on to relate how he came to find it, the fact that there was a passage that led somewhere, and his hopes that it might yield treasure.

  “There’s no guarantee that there is anything of value there,” argued Bart.

  “No, that’s true,” admitted Riyan. “But, the coin was there. Where there is one, there could be more.” Then he turned to Chad, “If there’s enough, maybe you could give some to your father to help with the grinding stones.”

  “That would be great,” agreed Chad. “He would have to forgive me then.”

  For the rest of the day they worked their way deeper into the mountains. Riyan continuously scanned for the landmarks he noted on his way out. One by one, they came into view to tell him that they were on the right course.

  That night when the sun dipped towards the horizon, they stopped and made camp. “I think we’ll be there sometime tomorrow morning,” he announced while they were setting up camp. “Noon by the latest.”

  Once the fire was going, Riyan went in search of dinner and returned shortly with a rabbit and a wild fowl. The three friends spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other’s company and trying to figure out what kind of treasure they would find tomorrow.

  As the shadows grew long and the people began returning to their homes, a stranger entered the quiet town of Quillim. Strangers as a rule were not too uncommon here in Quillim, it being but a short ride from the main road running north and south. Quite often travelers would cross the river running between the town and the main road to seek lodging for the night.

  This stranger was no different. The first place he went was to the Sterling Sheep where he acquired a room. When asked how long he would be staying, the stranger replied that he wasn’t sure and paid for three nights up front. This of course made the innkeeper quite happy.

  Later that night when the common room filled with diners and others who just came to hear the bard play, the stranger was found among them. A quiet individual who sat with his back against the wall, his eyes seemed to take in and examine everyone who entered. At one point, he waved over the serving woman. When she arrived at his table, he asked her, “I was wondering if you could help me?”

  She gave him a smile and replied, “Sure, that’s what I’m here for.”

  Returning her smile, he said, “I was wondering if you might know of a friend of mine. Last I had heard, he was moving to this area but have since forgotten the town to which he was moving.”

  “What was your friend’s name?” she asked.

  “Bartholomew Agreani,” he told her. “Ever heard of him?”

  “I know of a Bart,” she replied. “Never heard what his last name was though. I think he came here about a year ago.”

  “He’s a young man, brown hair and just under six feet tall,” he said.

  She nodded. “That sounds like him.”

  “Do you know where I could find him?” he asked.

  “I think he works out at old Rebecca’s farm,” she replied.

  “Could you tell me where I could find it?”

  “Oh sure,” she replied then gave him the directions to the farm. Just then, another customer hollered for her assistance and she said, “Hope I’ve been of help.”

  “Yes you have my dear,” the stranger assured her. “Thank you very much.”

  As she walked over to see what the other customer needed, the stranger sat back in his chair, took his mug in hand, and smiled.

  Chapter Seven

  _______________________