Dralin (12 page)

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Authors: John H. Carroll

Tags: #despair, #dragon, #shadow, #wizard, #swords and sorcery, #indie author, #forlorn

BOOK: Dralin
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The healer stopped chanting and carefully
closed Sheela’s eyes. “She is gone from this life, may she know joy
in her journey from this point on.”

Behind Frath, Purla burst into tears and
wailed, “No!” in a ragged voice.

Sergeant Gorman put a strong hand on his
shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Frath.” His gravelly voice was
filled with compassion.

And Frath did nothing but sit there, staring
at the face of the woman he loved. None of it was real. Nothing
else meant anything. He had spent his life alone regardless of how
many people surrounded him at any given time. Sheela was the only
one he had
ever
let in and shown the things he knew. She was
the only person who had
ever
made him happy.

The thought that she could truly be gone was
creeping up on him and he wanted to run away from it. He reached
out and touched her face, noticing the peaceful expression upon it
as though she were just asleep. Her skin felt warm, not cold like
every other dead body he had touched. She
couldn’t
be
gone.

“Frath . . .” Sergeant Gorman said.

The word brought reality rushing in and the
thought that had been creeping up on him suddenly dashed forward,
hitting Frath with the immensity of his loss. It was as though a
thousand swords pierced his skin at once and he screamed at the
pain. A long keen ripped from his throat to shred the air in the
room and beyond.

All who heard it stopped moving completely
as the hair on their necks stood on edge. The scream was one of
terrible loss and despair. Even shadows cringed at the sound and
paused for a moment of sorrow.

When the last of it died down, Frath became
silent again. He stared at the beautiful face of the only woman he
would ever truly love, a fact he accepted deep in his heart.
Everyone else in the room and outside in the basement remained
completely still and silent, stunned by the power of the voice that
had keened so despairingly. Even the babe lay quiet.

Frath kissed Sheela’s forehead tenderly,
then stood slowly and deliberately. “I love you too,” he told her,
knowing somehow she would hear him. Then he reached down and
carefully took the ring off her finger and hung it on a plain chain
he always wore around his neck. When he was done, he turned to the
midwife who was holding his child. Frath solemnly told the babe,
“I’ll give this ring to you when you’re older. Your mother would
want you to have it.”

“Do you have a name for her?” the midwife
asked as she handed over the bundle.

“Her name is Pelya,” Frath answered in clear
tones for all to hear. Pelya’s eyes were open and she looked into
his with gravity and wisdom greater than those of a sage. Frath
gazed back, silently letting her know that he would protect her
with his entire being. It was a moment he would remember for the
rest of his life.

“That’s an unusual name,” the midwife
stated. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard it before.”

“It’s a name Sheela and I found on three
different occasions. We like it and decided to use it,” Frath
explained, putting a pinkie into his daughter’s tiny hand and
feeling the unexpectedly strong grip.

“What if it had been a boy?” Gorman asked in
curiosity, looking over Frath’s shoulder and waving at Pelya.

“Sheela knew it was going to be a girl. I
don’t know how, but I knew she was right. We never considered a
boy’s name.”

“Huh . . . interesting,” the sergeant
replied.

“No!” a woman cried out from the doorway.
They all turned to see Tonya, the woman who had shown Sheela to her
room that first night, in the doorway. She sobbed at the sight of
her dear friend lying on the bed, and then ran away weeping.

It brought back the reality of what had
happened. Frath fell to his knees as though a mortal blow had been
struck. He couldn’t breathe. He felt as though he would never
breathe again. He managed to keep the baby safely in his arms until
the midwife quickly took Pelya.

Gorman helped Frath to his feet and guided
him out of the room. Purla watched them pass by through tears that
had never stopped. Sheela was like a daughter to her and Albert and
the loss was nearly as devastating to them.

Frath didn’t remember walking up the stairs
or outside into the garden, but suddenly he realized he was sitting
on a bench next to a birdbath under the shade of thick trees. The
birds were singing merrily, not understanding that the moment
called for silence and mourning.

“There you are,” Gorman said, patting him on
the back. “I thought you had gone to some other realm behind your
eyes for a while.”

Frath inhaled the sweet, sticky air. Flowers
in the garden let forth a beautiful aroma, but it was cloying
instead of pleasant. The drone of insects buzzing was loud,
distracting him from his thoughts. Frath wanted very much to go
somewhere quiet so he could think. He wanted to dwell on everything
for a long time. What he
didn’t
want to do was be in that
particular moment. Frath very much hated that particular moment. It
was the worst one in his life.

“Frath, I need to speak to you,” Albert said
solemnly, walking toward them. “Do you have enough of your senses
to listen to what I have to say?”

He thought about it for a moment before
nodding. “Yes Sir.”

“Good. What I’m going to say may sound
harsh, but I have no choice,” the Innkeeper began. Frath frowned,
not being in the mood for any sort of lecture. “We cannot raise
your child, Frath,” Albert stated, spreading his arms helplessly.
“I was willing to make allowances for Sheela, but the girls are
already distracted and no one is getting any work done.”

Frath nodded in understanding. He had
expected a lecture on how terrible he was for getting Sheela
pregnant and letting her die. Shame ran through his veins and he
was ready for condemnation.

“I’m going to pay for Sheela’s services, so
you don’t need to worry about that. Do you have a place where you
want her buried, or do you prefer cremation?”

Cold searing pain stabbed Frath’s heart and
his eyes widened at the words.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Albert
protested. Tears were welling in his eyes. “I know you’re
suffering, we all are, but there are matters to take care of and
you’re not in any position to do so.”

Frath nodded quickly, understanding his
friend’s position. Gorman’s hand was still gripping his shoulder
firmly and it was helping him to keep his mind. “Cremation. Bad
things happen to bodies in this city.”

“And the babe . . . what will you do?”
Albert asked hesitantly.

Frath stood suddenly and violently. “I will
never
give her to an orphanage!” he vowed.

Gorman stood immediately and put an arm in
front of him while Albert took a step back with his one hand up in
defense. The innkeeper was afraid of very few things in the world,
but the look on Frath’s face gave him pause. “Here now, I didn’t
say you should! I know your past, friend and would never suggest
that.”

Realizing he had reacted irrationally, Frath
put his hands on his face and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he
told Albert. “I just . . . I don’t know what I’m going to do, but
I’m going to raise her myself for better or worse.”

Albert put his hand on Frath’s shoulder. “I
know. You’re a good man, one I’m proud to call friend.” Frath
nodded and returned the gesture with a hand on the innkeeper’s
shoulder. Albert squeezed and let go. “The child is inside. The
midwife brought a wet nurse to feed her so she should be fine for a
little while. There’s also a pack with supplies gifted to Sheela.
You’ll find diapers and . . . whatever else babies need. I don’t
know. I try to stay away from babies.” He and Gorman laughed
briefly, but stopped when Frath didn’t join in.

Frath nodded and began walking toward the
inn. Gorman and Albert exchanged worried glances before following.
They found the baby in the arms of a noblewoman in the common room
of the inn. It surprised Frath that Pelya had been taken there
because he was certain Albert didn’t want to disrupt the
patrons.

Confirming his thoughts, Albert spoke out.
“Here, what is this then? Why has the baby been brought to the
common room?

“I wished to see the child, Albert,” the
noblewoman holding Pelya stated haughtily. She was about a foot
shorter than Frath and was wearing an expensive crimson dress
accessorized by a silk hat with fresh flowers embroidered into it.
“I liked the young woman. Sheela was pleasant to me. It saddens me
that she is gone.” She looked at the two guardsmen then pointed at
Frath. “Is this the father? The one who looks as though all the
light in the world has disappeared? Yes, that is him isn’t it?” She
came over to Frath with the baby. “Your betrothed spoke highly of
you and I could see love in her eyes whenever she said your
name.”

She placed Pelya in Frath’s arms and he
nestled her as securely as possible. The little eyes opened for a
moment, recognized him, and then closed to go back to sleep. The
noble lady rubbed Pelya’s cheek with the back of a finger. “What
will you do with her, young man?”

“I’m going to raise her,” Frath answered
with head held high.

She gave him an appraising look. “I am very
pleased to hear that. I believe you may just do a decent job of it.
There’s something about the dedication in your eyes and the resolve
in your spine that I like.” She opened the small bag that was over
her shoulder and took out a pouch. From it, she pulled a gold piece
and a silver piece and tucked them into Pelya’s blankets. “Care
well for her.”

“Th . . . thank you, Milady,” Frath
stammered gratefully. It was a lot of money to give. The noble lady
curtseyed and went back to her seat.

As Frath turned to leave, a knight wearing
normal clothing stood and walked over. Dark blonde hair washed over
his shoulders. His beard and mustache were thick, but neatly
trimmed. Sky blue eyes were soft and compassionate as he placed a
silver piece in the blanket. “May Reanna’s light shine on you and
bless you, child.” He kissed Pelya’s forehead, a great honor. There
weren’t many Knights of Reanna, Goddess of the Sun, and they were
some of the most valiant in the world.

As he stepped back, another knight and his
lady approached arm in arm. They each tucked a silver in the
child’s blankets and spoke a blessing. Frath couldn’t keep tears
from flowing down his cheeks as he stood there while twelve other
nobles, knights and ladies came and deposited silver pieces in the
blankets.

When they were done, Sergeant Gorman led
Frath through the front door. Everyone watched sadly as the
desolate man and his infant child entered the terrible city.

 

Chapter
7

 

No one bothered them on the way to the
barracks. Sergeant Gorman was known as a fierce swordsman and Frath
was an imposing presence even with a baby in his arms. There was
only a dim glow of sunlight in the west as nighttime was creeping
in. Lanterns were lit, but Frath in his grief preferred the
darkness.

The Dralin City Guard District, or Guard
District as most people called it, was more of a military fortress
than a real district. An Altordan army general, Izamel, built it
long ago for his personal use. He redirected military funds to do
so rather than use his own money. In addition to some of the best
military architects and engineers, he hired wizards to help
strengthen the entire fortress and to protect it from magic.

Once the fortress was finished, Izamel
decided that
he
should run the kingdom instead of letting a
bunch of wizards do it. He declared war on the Grand Assembly of
Wizards and then sat in the safety of his fortress while his troops
attacked the Grand Assembly’s Estate.

General Izamel and every officer who had
sworn loyalty to him died a few hours later. The wizards were
vastly more powerful than a silly general sitting in a fortress. It
took very little effort to defeat him once the wizards who had
created the wards protecting the fortress realized that they would
suffer under Izamel’s rule. They deactivated the wards and shortly
thereafter, wizards overran the fortress, easily incapacitating
whatever swordsmen hadn’t foolishly attacked the Grand
Assembly.

Other than the officers, there was very
little loss of life. Every soldier in Dralin was rounded up and
forced to the fortress. Powerful spells kept them from attacking or
fighting in any way. An announcement was made that they would each
be given a chance to serve the High Council. They would swear
fealty and be magically bound to it. If they betrayed that oath,
they would instantly die a terrible death. The alternative was to
suffer the horrible death immediately for the crime of treason.

Thus was born the Dralin City Guard. Dralin
had become overrun with crime and no one was safe. General Izamel
may have been an idiot for attacking the wizards, but he had the
best training regimens in Altordan or any other country. The City
Guard began restoring order and destroying crime. However, the
purveyors of that crime were so powerful that the guard lost half
its number in the first year without fully eradicating the
problem.

More recruits were hired and trained under
the vigorous regimen. The city settled into a balance of order
versus chaos. Order hadn’t gained much ground in the centuries
since, but the City Guard prevented things from becoming so
terrible again.

Each thirty foot thick wall of the
eight-sided district had two gates for people to walk through and a
large double gate for large deliveries. Gorman and Frath reentered
through the main gate of the northwest wall and returned to the
barracks. Corporal Willmas and other members of Gorman’s squad were
waiting for them. The corporal had made certain that everything was
spotless, not wanting to risk Gorman’s wrath by letting the squad
remain idle. The squad consisted of four units of six guards, men
and women, plus a sergeant and corporal.

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