[Mkguild] Healing Wounds in Arabarb (15 of ?)

[C. Matthias]

Have a Blessed Good Friday!

Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias


Strom lived on the southern outskirts of the city 
where he grazed sheep and pigs. A stone and 
wooden building with high ceiling served as the 
paddocks. Elizabaeg hid the wagon and horses 
within, repositioned her goods so that the boys 
could sleep inside the wagon comfortably, and then spoke with Strom privately.

Their host was an older man with only one eye who 
was on the declining years of vitality. His frame 
was lean and his skin, tough as leather, now 
stretched and sagged over his bones. At one time 
he would have been as strong as an ox, but the 
years and deprivations of living beneath 
Calephas's boot had robbed him of all but what he needed to tend his flocks.

While his mother was occupied, Lindsey donned an 
extra bear-hide cloak and followed Pharcellus 
back through the streets of Fjellvidden. His 
older brother – rather the dragon masquerading as 
his older brother – led him quickly between the 
rows of decrepit houses that slumped against each 
other. They waited at the end of each alley to be 
sure that the streets were empty before they 
dared to cross. Lindsey felt terribly exposed and 
a little frightened every time they were forced 
to cross one of the larger streets. But 
Pharcellus held his hand, and the two of them were able to do it together.

With night coming soon the streets were mostly 
empty to begin with. Only once did they see a 
bored squad of soldiers walking down the street. 
But they entered one of the taverns before even 
passing where the two boys hid. They saw no one else.

They found Vysterag gathering nets and oars in 
his shop. The blond-haired northerner looked them 
both over before grunting, “Did anyone see you?”

“No, Master,” Lindsey replied, still clutching 
Pharcellus's hand. “No one saw us.”

“Good. No one will notice a man and two boys 
going to docks to fish. Here, Andrig, you can 
carry the lantern. Chellag, help me with the oars and nets.”

Lindsey did as he was told, and wrapped his hands 
around the brass ring attached to the top of the 
oil lantern. He noted that it was designed with a 
metal hood that could focus the light if lowered. 
He made a mental note of where it was before 
following Pharcellus and Vysterag out of the shop 
and around to the back. A wooden staircase 
descended along the steep bank, paralleling an 
old ruined stone staircase that was swallowed by 
vegetation, snow, and ice. The sun didn't shine 
on the bank, and it quickly became even colder, 
and their feet struck patches of ice every few steps.

He lost count of how many steps there were 
sometime after twelve so started over again and 
got just as high again when they reached the 
bottom. The river had bored out a section of the 
hillside, and the crumbling rocks created a calm 
basin in which ships and fishermen could move 
about without being swept downstream by the very 
strong seasonal current. The wharves were a mix 
of wood and old stone, and apart from two 
caravels that hadn't been used since before the 
winter, there was a mix of a dozen smaller craft. 
Vysterag selected a dinghy, but did not bother to 
raise the sail. He set the nets along the port 
side, and gestured for the two of them to climb aboard.

He took the lantern from Lindsey and hung it on a 
hook at the bow before untying the boat from the 
dock. He then sat down in the stern and began 
paddling backward. Pharcellus sat in the bow and 
began paddling as well. Lindsey sat down on the 
starboard side and used the last paddle. The 
water splashed on his arms but he couldn't feel it through his thick hides.

Once they were clear of the docks, Vysterag 
turned the dinghy to face upriver toward the 
castle. The sky overhead was clear but quickly 
darkening. The gibbous moon gave the water a 
faint glow. They rowed in silence for a few 
minutes, moving east beyond the other ships, and 
especially the two caravels that lurked like 
ominous shadows. Lindsey ducked lower against the 
hull as they slid past them. Then he slipped a 
few smooth stones he'd found from his the little 
pouch at his side and skipped them across the water.

“What are you doing?” Vysterag asked him in a sudden harsh whisper.

Lindsey crouched lower and said, “Nothing.” He 
hated to admit it to himself, but he sounded far 
too defensive and childish. Glumly, he shoved the 
stones back in his pouch and decided to try rowing again.

Vysterag stopped rowing once they felt the 
current begin to push them back. He took an 
anchor and heaved it overboard, arresting their 
backward momentum, and letting them drift in 
place. The current aligned the boat so that the 
bow and lantern were pointed toward the castle. 
“This will do,” he said softly. “No one can hear 
us out here, but keep your voices down. There 
might not be any ice on this water, but it will 
still kill you before we can warm you if you fall in.”

Lindsey eased back from the side of the hull and 
sat just beneath the yardarm. Vysterag crouched 
over to the fish nets and began unrolling them 
from one end. “Chellag, come help me with this. 
We have to at least look like we're fishing.”

Pharcellus scuttled over and together the two of 
them unrolled the fish net and cast it into the 
water. The current dragged it behind them, but 
they were able to drag it back in without 
difficulty. A few fish were caught in the net, 
and these they dumped into the small hold beneath where Lindsey sat.

“Good,” Vysterag noted. “Poor catch here means we 
can keep moving closer to the castle. Can either of you see anything?”

Lindsey moved to the lantern and lowered the hood 
so that the light didn't shine back on him. The 
castle loomed before them even though it was 
easily another hundred yards upriver. The 
northern wing hunched onto a ledge of rock 
jutting up from the river, though a portion 
descended beneath the surface of the water, iron 
grates rusted and old letting the river flow 
through the space. The stone would eventually rot 
away, but during the Summer and Fall the river 
level would be low enough and the current slow 
enough that repairs could be made when necessary.

But despite this, there were no low windows of 
parapets that could be reached even by the most 
seasoned of climbers. There was no way to enter 
the castle, or to escape it, from the northern wing.

The rest of the castle was more conventional 
though still a fortress against all invaders. The 
curtain wall at one time enclosed all of 
Fjellvidden, but now the outer bailey had been 
abandoned and all defenses had been turned to the 
inner bailey. Even from the river Lindsey could 
see that guards manned the battlements, but he 
couldn't quite see what weapons they carried, nor how many there were.

He could hear them cast the net a second time and 
then a third time while he studied the castle. 
The soldiers he could see were all human, though 
judging by their build, many of them were not 
from Arabarb. Who were they then and where did 
they come from? He asked Vysterag.

“Remnants of Nasoj's army that didn't want to go 
back in defeat. He has the pass to the Giantdowns 
blockaded in case Nasoj or anyone else should attack.”

“Is most of his army foreign?” Pharcellus asked 
as he tossed flopping fish into the hold.

“I don't know. But it seems that way. But he 
still has enough natives to keep the entire 
country from going up in flames. But there's only so much we can take.”

“So why is the Resistance so small?” Lindsey 
asked, not turning from his contemplation. He was 
beginning to make out more details, but they were 
still too far away to be sure.

“The mage. If not for him, we'd have put that 
monster's head on a pike already.” Vysterag sat 
down in the stern and grunted. “Let's row a 
little further in. There has to be more fish up ahead.”

Both Pharcellus and Lindsey began rowing at the 
bow even before the shipwright had raised the 
anchor. By the time Vysterag began to row, they 
were cutting across the current back into calmer 
waters. The castle neared and its shadows 
stretched up and across the northern bluffs.

Lindsey pointed in delight when the torches along 
the battlements were lit one by one. And more 
were lit inside the castle. Now he could see the 
windows along the entire western flank of the 
castle. Most were too narrow even for a boy like 
him. They were arrow slits solely for defense, 
and, he realized with some dismay, almost all of 
them pointed toward the river. But there were a 
few balconies overlooking the water that might 
provide a means of escape if he were truly desperate.

By the time Vysterag dropped the anchor again, 
they were reaching the lip of the cove in to 
which the docks had been built. They could thin 
strands of silvery light racing back and forth 
across the river's surface just ahead of them; if 
they dared row into that they'd be swept 
downstream too quickly to return to the safety of the cove.

“This is as far as we can go,” Vysterag pointed 
out with a sigh. “The fish should be good here. 
Put your back into it, Chellag. Andrig, keep watch for us.”

Lindsey nodded and turned the lantern with one 
hand to make it less obvious that they were 
looking at the castle. Instead, he focused on the 
shield of land running along the river's bank to 
the base of the fortress. High walls lined the 
top of the bank, but they reflected the light 
well, giving Lindsey the ability to see the foundations.

Nestled in a crook of the castle, he saw a small 
seadoor and yawl anchored there. He couldn't 
discern any details in the door, but he knew that 
even if he could reach it, it would be locked 
from the inside. And with the current flowing 
against them there was no way to reach it. The 
yawl looked big enough for a dozen sailors, and 
small enough for two or three. If he could find a 
way to get through that door, it would make for 
the perfect escape route. Or the perfect 
entrance. But it would take magic of a kind he 
did not possess to bridge that distance. Even a 
force of soldiers riding the current down from 
upriver would be swept and dashed against the 
northern bluffs as they passed the castle.

Lindsey sighed and turned away from the recessed 
alcove and studied the towers. The main castle 
had a sloped roof like a longhouse framed at the 
four corners by squat towers. Each tower was 
peaked with a cone. He doubted Pharcellus would 
find any place he could land as a dragon. Despite 
that hardship, he made note of as much of the 
castle details as he could while the other two fished.

After almost a half hour of scrutiny, Vysterag 
announced, “Well, we've filled half our hold. We 
ought not linger. Are you satisfied?”

“Enough,” Lindsey admitted. Even with the moon 
shining over the city and the stars bright in the 
sky it was becoming increasingly difficult to 
make out any details. “It'll have to do. Let's go back.”

Vysterag hauled the anchor and let the current 
push them back toward the wharves. The shipwright 
corrected their course, while Pharcellus and 
Lindsey rowed to speed the dinghy along. Within 
ten minutes they were easing back against the 
dock. Lindsey took the lantern while Vysterag and 
Pharcellus carried the net with their catch back 
up the stairs. They'd caught at least a few dozen 
if not fifty decent sized salmon. He hated to 
imagine what climbing the stairs would be like with a full net!

They saw no soldiers on the way back up and 
reached the shop without incident. Vysterag 
gestured to a large wooden open-faced box and 
said, “Dump the fish here. I'll take care of 
them. You two have done enough for one evening.”

“Are you sure you don't need any help?” Pharcellus asked.

“I usually do this on my own. I'll be fine. Now 
get back to Strom's. The patrols are always worse after dark.”

They thanked him and returned to the twilight 
city. Once off the river they could see the last 
tip of the sun's rays as it set behind the long 
hilly slopes to the south. The moon was in the 
southeast but climbing quickly. This far north it 
would never rise very high, but high enough that 
they could see everything clearly enough.

Lindsey slipped his hand into the teenager's and 
the two of them darted from alley to alley 
retracing their steps from an hour ago. They had 
crossed only two streets when they ran into a 
trio of soldiers coming out of a side door 
directly into the alley. The door clipped Lindsey 
in the side and he stumbled to the ground, his 
hood thrown back as he fell. The three soldiers 
stared at him for a few seconds before they began 
to smile. “Well, what do we have here. Out after 
dark, huh?” They began to laugh.

Pharcellus kicked the nearest one in the groin so 
quickly that the other two were still laughing 
even as he crumpled. With a swift tug, Pharcellus 
dragged Lindsey to his feet and they ran through 
the twisting passages, across the next street, 
right behind another patrol, and into the alleys 
again. Sounds of pursuit followed them a moment later.

“Go that way and cut them off,” they heard a hard 
voice shout. And it was answered with voices 
before them in the alley. Pharcellus yanked 
Lindsey hard down a side passage that was pitch 
black. Lindsey stubbed his toe on something and 
had to clench his teeth to keep from crying out. 
He so wished his mother were here.

The dark path continued for a few feet before 
turning. Pharcellus didn't seem to have any 
trouble avoiding the walls that pressed close on 
either side as the shouting voices echoed around 
them. Lindsey bumped into them with nearly every other step.

After the third turn they saw a sliver of light 
ahead. Pharcellus stopped, sniffed the air, and 
then proceeded more cautiously. Lindsey 
swallowed, tigthening his grip on his big 
brother's hand. Step by step they neared the 
shaft of light. Six steps away and Lindsey could 
see that it opened onto another alley. Three 
steps away and he could see that the alley was 
narrow but that a turn to the right would bring 
them to the next street and into the moonglow.

One step away and one of the soldiers stepped in 
front of the opening and grabbed Pharcellus by 
the shirt and dragged them both out. Pharcellus 
let go of Lindsey's hand, but the boy was too 
close; the soldier grabbed him too. His face was 
angry, but he didn't have any weapons in hand. 
And to their surprise he did not shout, only 
whispered. “If he wasn't looking for another boy 
for his bed, I'd let the others harass you. Stay 
right here and I'll make sure they don't find you.”

“I don't trust you,” Pharcellus said in a voice 
that betrayed no fear. Lindsey tried not to quiver next to him.

“Good. Now stay put.” The soldier let go of them 
both and walked out into the street. He was a 
fairly young man, Lindsey realized, just young 
enough to have been a potential victim of 
Calephas's lusts when he'd first come to Arabarb 
ten years ago. And then he disappeared down the 
street, running and shouting. “This way! I saw 
them go this way!” His voice and footsteps receded.

Both of them held their breath as they backed up 
into the darkened corridor. A few more booted 
feet ran past the opening, but none of them came 
down the alley. They waited for another minute 
but didn't hear anyone else. Tentatively, 
Pharcellus stepped back out into the alley, and 
then glanced up and down the street. He tugged on 
Lindsey's hand and the two of them raced across.

A few minutes later they were slipping through 
the doors to Strom's paddocks to join the 
bleating sheep and grunting pigs in the warmth 
and safety. They saw neither Strom nor Elizabaeg 
waiting for them. Lindsey leaned against one of 
the sheep pens and breathed heavily. “Why did he let us go?”

“They may serve him, but they don't like him.” 
Pharcellus suggested softly as he stretched and 
looked around. “I thought you wanted to be captured?”

Lindsey licked his lips and then shook his head. 
“I do. Just not yet. It's too early. None of the 
others will be here for another two to three 
days. I can't risk being captured just yet. We're not ready for it.”

“Very true,” Pharcellus agreed. He walked over to 
the where the wagon was stowed in a corner at the 
other end of the paddock. The animals bleated at 
him as he passed but otherwise ignored them. 
Lindsey followed and saw the dragon peering into the wagon hold.

Lindsey chuckled without mirth. “Are you ready to 
sleep already? I don't want to get back in there 
just yet. Been in there for three days.”

Pharcellus turned back around and smiled. He 
twirled one of his short beard braids with his 
free hand. “Just making sure everything is ready 
here. Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Looking for?”

“At the castle.”

“Oh! Aye, I believe so. There's a few ways to 
escape from there that might work. But it is 
still heavily defended and we're going to need to 
breach the gatehouse quickly once I kill Calephas 
and Gmork. Have you noticed that nobody wants to 
say their names here? Vysterag called Gmork the 
mage, and everyone calls Calephas the monster.”

“They are afraid of magical scrying. To say their 
names is to invite their attention.” Pharcellus 
glanced beyond the walls of the paddocks as if he 
could see straight into the castle where those 
two malefactors waited. “We shouldn't say them either.”

Lindsey rubbed his hands together and frowned. 
“Can you see any of their magic?”

“I've looked when I could. There is definitely 
something vile taking place in that castle. I 
couldn't see what. Mayhap others better trained 
would know. I'm still pretty young and 
inexperienced. Flying that fox and his friends around doesn't count for much.”

The sudden onset of modesty made Lindsey laugh, 
but he couldn't quite say why. “But you tell such great stories about them!”

“That I am good at doing!” Pharcellus replied 
with a wide grin. “And I've already figured out 
quite a few that will impress anyone who listens when we get back.”

“Would you tell me one?” Lindsey's sudden good 
humor, and the prospect of a story, banished all 
the fears that had rattled him in the last ten 
minutes. “We don't have anything else to do.”

Pharcellus climbed up on the wagon and gestured 
for him to do the same. Lindsey gladly did so. 
“Well,” the dragon said with a faint laugh, “I 
guess one won't hurt. And this is one you don't 
know. It's about my trip along the coast with the birds.”

Lindsey cuddled up in the quilts and listened with rapt attention.


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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias


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