Bound to the Abyss (23 page)

Jaslen put a hand on top of his own. That stopped him from speaking.

“Ean, these Seekers,” her voice was low and she was looking at him intently. “They kill anything that they even think has been touched by the energy coming out of the Scar. Anything.” She gave his hand a squeeze, emphasizing the word.

So that’s what had caused her so much concern. She was actually worried about him. The thought quelled his anger in a heartbeat, and he did his best to give her a reassuring smile.
 

“Even if that’s true and these people exist, I doubt that they would be able to tell that I’m connected to the Abyss in any way.” At least I hope.

Bran interrupted them with a bellow of excitement as the waitress finally returned with their drinks. As soon as she set it down, he snatched his up and brought it to his lips. Gulping a few times, he smacked the half-finished mug back down on the table.
 

“We don’t need to fear these Seekers,” he said, loudly. “We’ve turned into Heroes ourselves; we can handle them.”

It took a few moments for Ean to realize that the whole room had grown silent. Jaslen’s eyes darted about. The patrons in the tables around them had turned to face them, their faces blank. It took Bran a bit longer to notice.

“What’s going on?” Bran asked, that stupid grin still on his face. “Did someone just die?” Ean watched as Jaslen cringed in unison with him. Bran didn’t seem to notice. “Well, I guess a bunch of people died today, but many more lived. So you all should return to your celebrating!”

The faces around them weren’t blank now. Open anger painted half of them while the rest had looks of disgust. People further away were mumbling now as well, occasionally pointing and frowning in their direction. Jaslen reached over and tried to get Bran’s attention, but he was oblivious.

“I may not be part of this village,” Bran continued on, “but I did my fair share of helping out. I didn’t see these so called Seekers anywhere about.” The scratching sound of a blade coming out of a sheath caught Ean’s attention, and he stood so fast he knocked his chair over. He had no idea where the sound had come from, but the feeling of inevitable violence hung in the air.

“Now, now, no need to get all worked up,” said a woman’s voice from somewhere in the crowd. Ean tried to pick out the direction he had heard the sound from, but with everyone’s attention on them, it was impossible to determine who might have drawn a blade. Almost everyone in the room now was looking in their direction.

Before anything could happen, the innkeeper’s wife pushed through the crowd and planted herself next to Bran. She was built more like a solid block of stone, not like a soft doughy woman that had eaten too much of her own baking. She glared down at Bran from behind a mop of disheveled black hair.

“If you ask me, there should be an age limit on Burnbeer. The younger you are, the dumber it makes you. This one is too ignorant to be afraid of Seekers and lacks the good sense to respect the dead. I have a good mind to turn him over my knee and give him a spanking.”
 

That got a few nods from the surrounding crowd, but just as many were still giving Bran looks as if they meant him harm. The innkeeper’s wife continued on. “I’ll escort our young trouble-maker back to his room and then the rest of us can go about celebrating in honor of those we lost today.”

Bran had just been staring at the woman open-mouthed as she spoke, his face becoming redder with each insult. When she was done, he tried to speak. “Now wait just a second,” he slurred. “I am perfectly fine …”

A loud smacking sound cut him off as the innkeeper’s wife backhanded Bran across the face. The woman moved so quickly, Ean didn’t even think Bran would have been able to dodge or block the blow if he had been sober. The hit was hard enough to knock him out of his chair. A look of confusion crossed his face as he found himself on the floor. The crowd around them erupted into a cheer with many of the men and women standing to applaud.

With a satisfied nod in Bran’s direction, the innkeeper’s wife turned her attention on Ean and Jaslen. “Now, you better get him up to his room and keep him there for the night. I don’t want to have to teach that boy a lesson again. I’ll even help you get him there.”
 

Without waiting for a reply from either of them, the woman reached down and grabbed Bran by the scruff of his shirt. Lifting him up, she held him out in front of her like a piece of rotten trash and began walking him towards the back.

There was nothing for Ean and Jaslen to do but follow after the woman manhandling Bran. The other patrons of the bar made room for the intimidating woman as she made her way towards the stairs. As Ean and Jaslen followed behind, Ean heard the mumblings of some of the patrons.

“Just a stupid child that can’t hold his drink …”
 

“Last thing we need is the Seekers here …”

“I heard everyone in Rottwealth is a little crazy. That’s why they never usually come out of their valley …”

Ignoring their words, Ean focused on keeping up with the innkeeper’s wife. She moved through the crowd easily for such a large woman, especially considering Bran wasn’t a lightweight either. Bran didn’t seem to have his wits about him yet. He was moving his legs, but every time he got close to getting some traction on the ground, the innkeeper’s wife just gave him a little shake. She ended up carrying him all the way up to their room, where she dumped him onto one of the beds. Then without a word, she dragged both Jaslen and Ean into the room, then slammed the door shut. Turning on them both, she jabbed a finger into Ean’s chest.

“Now, I understand you probably know very little of what goes on outside of your village,” she said in a stern tone, “but that should just make you and your friends more careful of what you say.” She pulled over a chair and fell back into it, then motioned for the two of them to have a seat on the closest bed.

"If you learn nothing else while out of your village, you should at least know this: The Seekers are a horrible group that answers to no one but the Voice of their temple. Direct agents of Alistar himself, they roam about doing ‘Alistar’s work.’ The things they do, though, make it hard to believe the god of justice would support them. Traveling around, dispensing their own form of justice, disregarding the mayors, village councils or whatever body governs a village.”

“That sounds just like any other Hero,” Jasmine broke in, “although a bit harsher than any I’ve seen or heard about.”

“Heroes have their own rules, girl. They bend them every which way, but they never break them. If a Hero steps out of line, you can be sure a pack of them will arrive to put him or her in their place.”
 

Letting out a long sigh, the innkeeper’s wife fiddled with her dress before continuing. “The Seekers stand apart from everyone else. The only one that can call them out for their actions is Alistar himself, and I haven’t heard of him ever making an appearance.”

To Ean, the Seekers just sounded like another form of bully. “And no one is willing to stand up to them? They sound like a small group. If this village could defend itself from a whole pack of raiders, I can’t see why they couldn’t drive out a couple of holy men.”

The older woman grimaced. “These three people, two men and a woman, are said to be the greatest fighters in the land. Blessed with skills and weapons by Alistar himself, so they say. They have only passed through here once. A group of hunters with a bit too much Burnbeer in their guts thought they could scare the group off. One Seeker killed six of the men on his own while his two friends simply watched. He probably would have killed more if the other man in their group hadn’t stopped him.”

“Well, of course he beat them easily,” Jaslen replied. “I’ve seen how funny that Burnbeer stuff can make a person.” Her eyes began to wander towards Bran, but she snapped them back towards the woman. “We might even be able to handle six men after they downed enough mugs of the stuff.”

“No, girl, the men might have gotten a bit of courage from the drink, but they were not in any condition like your friend here. Those men were some of our best with a weapon, even when they were a bit tipsy, and he cut them down in a matter of moments. The other man said a prayer afterwards for them too.”
 

She shuddered and rubbed her hands together for a moment before continuing. “The leader and woman seemed regretful that it had happened, but the other man … well, he seemed to find the whole thing funny. Best not to even joke about people like that.”

“Alright, we get it. They are dangerous,” Ean said. “But what does that have to do with this Scar that we’ve heard about?”

The woman took a moment to mumble a prayer -- Ean wasn’t sure to whom -- before speaking. “They say that the main reason the Seekers exist is because the god, Alistar, wants to destroy anything that has even the remotest connection to the Abyss. Now I’ve only heard this from a man that heard about it from his sister’s husband, but apparently their leader has a weapon that can absorb and destroy the energies that come from the Abyss. The Seekers go about closing these Scars and then hunt around and kill anything that was touched by the energy that leaks out of it to stop them from spreading the corruption. Even if it’s a person that made the mistake of getting too close.”

Ean’s thoughts immediately went to the man that he had ‘changed.’ The man had been a cold-blooded killer and rapist, and now he was something even worse. It was a callous thought, but he hoped the Seekers would track him down and take him out of this world.

“So, I hope you understand now how talking about them can stir up some bad feelings.” Rising to her feet, the innkeeper’s wife placed her hands on her hips. “Now, with that being said, this will be the last night you will be staying here.”

“What?” Ean and Jaslen said in unison. “But with everything you just said, we can’t travel north,” Jaslen continued on. “The caravans won’t be leaving for weeks.”

“There isn’t anywhere else we can stay in this village,” Ean said, almost talking over her. “Where will we go?”

Stepping up almost directly in their faces, the woman’s tone grew serious. “I suggest that you return home. You have no idea what the world outside of your little village is like, and you are probably better off. Better for you to return home and resume your safe little lives.”

“Fine,” Ean said, which earned him a silent glare from Jaslen.

“Glad to see you have some sense. Here.” Moving to one of the dressers, she opened a drawer and pulled out a small sack. “Our healer sent this to you for thanks and said she would find a way to repay you more when she could. I already told her you were returning home so she can send whatever she thinks is right to your village. I’ve packed another sack downstairs filled with more than enough food for your trip home. I’ll leave it at the bottom of the steps when most of the crowd leaves.”

Tossing the bag at their feet, she headed for the door. As she entered the hallway, she turned, a small smile finally lighting up her face. “I know I have been a bit abrupt with you tonight, but it is for your own good. Our whole village is grateful for what you did and most want to make sure nothing unfortunate happens to you. So be safe and go home.”
 

With that she closed the door behind her, leaving the three of them in silence.

Bran was the first to make a sound, a moan escaping his lips as he lay on the bed. He was on his side at this point, his eyes closed. Ean hoped he would stay asleep until the morning, that way he couldn’t cause them any more trouble. He reached down and picked up the sack. Inside he found a variety of smaller sacks and carefully wrapped bottles. Searching through each, he found various herbs, powders and liquids. Of course none of them contained Rottwealth or Flashseal, but the medicine was far more plentiful than what Cleff had donated for the journey.

“Ean,” Jaslen said as he examined each of the containers of medicine. “You can’t really think we should just go home.”

“Home? We are certainly not going home. We’re going to Lurthalan like we planned.”

“What? You just said that we were going to head home.”

 
“I only said that so she wouldn’t keep bothering us. That woman wouldn’t have let us out of her sight if she thought we were going north.” He gave her his best reassuring smile. “And you don’t have to worry about the Scar. I can handle anything that has to do with the Abyss.”

“Maybe,” she seemed less than convinced. “But what about those Seekers? They hunt anything connected to the Abyss, which I would think includes you.”

With a sigh, Ean got to his feet. He began pacing the room, pausing only to glance out the window. It was pitch black outside. The villagers must be making an early night of it, at least those that weren’t still downstairs.

“The Seekers are three people,” he replied. “I’m sure we can avoid them. And who knows how close they are. If we get near the Scar and it seems dangerous, we can turn around and head back or go around them.”
 

A small frown tugged at Jaslen’s lips, but she remained quiet. Ean pushed on, trying to reassure her. “I know you’re worried, but I promise if we think it’s the least bit dangerous, we’ll turn around and head back.”

“Fine,” she said at last. “But I am going to hold you to your word. If I say we turn around, then we turn around. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Good.” She motioned with her head towards Bran, who was sprawled out over the bed in his boots and snoring like a hibernating bear. “But what are we going to do about him?”

“We’ll let him sleep it off while we pack. We had better get everything ready. I don’t think Bran is going to be any help tonight.”

Kneeling down, he started to trace the runes to open up his Pocket while Jaslen started pulling out their clothes. He did it without thinking now, his hand moving almost of its own accord. That left his mind free to think about all of the possibilities that these Scars could hold.

Chapter 17

MOVING ON

They took their time packing. Ean had no idea how Jaslen was feeling, but he was wide awake from the excitement of the day and what lay ahead. At one point she went downstairs to get their sack of food, leaving Ean alone upstairs with Bran. The other boy was still curled up on top of his bed, his loud snores filling the room. Ean smiled as he moved about, picking up his things. The start of the trip had been bumpy, but he felt that they had all grown from it. His experience helping the people of Rensen had given him a more optimistic view of the trip.