Lorik (The Lorik Trilogy) (11 page)

“Well, I’ll be sending him to help you get settled,” Lorik said, clamping down on the strong emotions that were springing to the surface of his mind. “I’ve got to go collect a load, but I’ll send him here with the old wagon. So be ready when he gets here. We’ll be gone for a couple of weeks.”

“Good, that will give me time to get the funky smell out of your old house.”

“There’s no smell in my house,” he said indignantly.

“Oh, don’t get upset. You’re a bachelor, and you’re gone most of the time. Your house could use a good cleaning. It’s the least I can do in exchange for you letting me stay there.”

He smiled. “All right, make yourself at home. I’ll see you when I get back.”

She kissed him, and although it was fast and friendly, it surprised him.

“You’re a good friend, Lorik. Thank you.”

He just smiled and left. He found in those moments that it was better to get busy with something he could see and touch. He walked down to one of the blacksmith’s shops.

Hugo was a huge man with thickly muscled arms and bushy beard. He was also one of the gentlest men Lorik had ever known.

“Lorik!” Hugo cried. “What brings you around today? Are your horses needing new shoes already?”

“No, I was looking to get a few weapons. Have you got some you can part with?”

“Weapons, eh? Well, of course I do, you know that. I hope all is well.”

“It is, but there are rumors of a war.”

“I’ve heard that, yes.”

“And chances are the roads may not be as safe if the Earl has sent his men away from Yorick Shire. Better safe than sorry, you know.”

“That is correct. What did you have in mind?”

“I need a bigger axe,” Lorik said. “Double-bladed if you have one. And maybe a few javelins.”

“Oh, I have just the thing. Here, let me show you.”

Hugo went into the storage room where he kept his supplies and finished projects. He came out with a beautiful axe. It was big: the handle was as long as Lorik’s leg, and the twin blades were as wide as both of his hands side by side. The axe blades curved around so that there was almost a circle around the head of the axe.

“What do you think, eh?”

“It’s beautiful,” Lorik said.

“Feel the balance,” Hugo told him as he handed the weapon over.

The handle was oak and wrapped in pig skin. It had heft, but it wasn’t as heavy as Lorik had imagined it would be. The length and weight of the handle counter balanced the axe head and Lorik could wield it with both hands.

“I cored the handle,” Hugo said, “and there is a beam of steel that runs from the axe head down the handle. You could block a sword stroke with the handle and not have to worry about it snapping.”

“It’s perfect,” Lorik said. “Do you have javelins too?”

“Sure, sure,” he said, stepping back into the small room.

Lorik had used a javelin his whole life. He carried a longbow when he traveled, but he’d learned to use a javelin as a boy before he could draw a stout bowstring. In the Marshlands, javelins were used for hunting and even fishing for some of the larger fish, but they were essential in fending off the mud dragons if the need arose. Hugo came out with half a dozen javelins.

“They’re all honed and balanced.”

“Good. I’ll take them all. How much do I owe you?”

He paid Hugo and then went to the market where he bought bread and smoked eel for the trip. He was just tying his provisions in a sack to the end of one of the javelins when Stone called to him from the street.

“I’m glad I ran into you,” he told Stone. “I need you to do something for me. Vera is moving into my house. Can you hitch the farm wagon up and help her move her things?”

“Sure,” Stone said, but he looked as if he wanted to say more.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “She’s been talking about leaving town for a long time. She’ll just be staying with me for a while before she goes. We’re just friends...” he paused for emphasis and then continued with a smile, “Liam.”

Stone’s face turned red.

“She told you my name,” he said, a little sheepishly.

“We’ve been friends a long time,” Lorik explained. “I told her you would be coming.”

“I might need a little help hitching the horse to the wagon,” Stone admitted.

“Well, then, come back with me now. You’ll still have time to get provisions before you leave town. I’m going out to pick up our load now. You can catch up to me on your horse later this evening.”

“All right, that sounds good,” said Stone.

They walked together, Stone leading his horse and neither man talking. Lorik knew that Stone was trying to work out what to say, but Lorik felt it was best if he let Stone say what was on his mind in his own way and in his own time. They were almost back to the barn before Stone spoke up.

“So, I need to say something,” he said. “I have feelings for Vera. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Not with me,” Lorik said, even though he wasn’t sure if that was completely true.

“Can you tell me if she has been seeing someone else?”

“She doesn’t have any suitors if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve seen her turn down good matches in the past. I’ve even offered to marry her, but that isn’t what she wanted. I did promise to take her north soon. She was planning on starting a new life.”

“Oh,” was all Stone managed to say.

“Let me show you how to hitch up that old wagon.”

It wasn’t long before Stone drove the wagon away from the barn and Lorik once again watched him go. Normally the path to town from his property had to be carefully navigated to keep the wagon wheels from veering into the mud where it could get stuck, but the farm wagon wasn’t as wide as the others, and Lorik figured Stone could keep the wagon on the path.

He was relieved to get busy, since his emotions seemed so troubling. He didn’t love Vera, he knew that was certain. What he couldn’t figure out was why her feelings for Stone bothered him so much. She seemed happy, although Lorik knew that romance could evaporate as quickly as it sprang up. Vera and Stone hardly knew each other, but he had heard that sometimes love struck as quick and powerful as lightning. It wasn’t his place to doubt Vera’s feelings, and he would have plenty of time on the road with Stone to get a good sense of the other man’s character. Perhaps all he felt was grief. His friend was leaving, perhaps not leaving the Point, but she would no longer be the welcoming confidant she had always been. She had seen him through the death of his parents and comforted him. Whether things were good or bad, she had always been there for him with open arms. Now, things were changing, and he didn’t like change.

Once he had the marsh schooner ready and two of the Shire mares were in their braces, he set out. The open road had always had a way of rejuvenating him. He loved the beginning of a trip. He stopped at Chancy’s Inn and got a large keg of mead, which he secured to the bench seat beside him. It would give them something to drink in the marshes where fresh water was sometimes hard to find, and it would also serve as an armrest. He propped the big battle axe on the floor with its handle pointed up and resting against the keg of mead. His own rations and the six javelins he placed in the bed of the wagon just within reach of his seat.

The Hollist farm was one of the biggest producers of rice in the Marshlands, and the main farmhouse was sited right on the path that led out of Hassell Point. There were other villages in the Marshlands, but Hassell Point was biggest. The other villages had very little interaction with the outside world. Other than a delivery or two, usually made by Lorik, they had no contact with anyone outside of the Marshlands. Hollist was waiting at the farmhouse with three of his sons. They already had the rice dried and bagged. Hollist could have sent his rice by ship. He was close enough to the harbor, hardly an hour’s ride by wagon. He had the money to pay for the cargo to be shipped as well, but like most of the people in the Marshlands, they preferred to have one of their own moving their goods. It was not unheard of for a shipment of rice sent by sea to go missing, in which case the rice tax wouldn’t be paid and the farmer could lose everything.

Hollist’s sons loaded the rice while Lorik got specific orders from the farmer about what he needed from the north. Once everything was settled, Hollist and Lorik shook hands. Then Lorik set off in his wagon again. There were perhaps two hours of daylight left, and while Lorik was able to keep his emotions about Vera from bubbling to the surface at first, before long he couldn’t help himself. He was sad and he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t the type of person given to sentimentality, nor was he comfortable with lying to himself. He thought about what was bothering him again, and once more he ruled out the possibility that he had stronger feelings for Vera than he thought. He was concerned for Vera; he didn’t want to see her get hurt, and as much as he liked Stone, neither of them knew the young warrior very well. But his emotional anguish was more than just concern. He was upset about something, and he decided that pretending he wasn’t upset was not going to help him.

Then, out of the blue, it hit him. He wasn’t bothered by the fact that Vera was leaving him or seemed to be falling in love with Stone, he was upset because he and Vera had always been the same. Neither of them was satisfied with life, but it was easier to take the disappointment when he could spend time with someone who understood how he felt. It wasn’t that Lorik didn’t like living in Hassell Point or even like his trade. He felt lucky to have all he had, but there was something missing. It was easy to look at Vera and see that what she was missing was love. She had never found the person she wanted to share her life with until perhaps now, but Lorik was different. He didn’t think love and marriage were what was missing from his life. Finding someone to share his life with might have been pleasant, but he didn’t feel like his life was incomplete because he spent most of his time alone.

He pondered his situation and while he couldn’t put his finger on why he wasn’t happy, he did feel that he knew why Vera’s decision to leave Hassell Point and her strong feelings for Stone upset him so much. There was a measure of relief in being able to identify his problem, but he still wasn’t sure how to proceed. As night began to fall, he stopped and made camp. The main path from Hassell Point into the marshes was an old road of sorts. It clung to the high ground, although it occasionally dropped into the little valleys between the low hills. In those troughs the path was susceptible to muck and clinging mud, depending on the weather. It had been reasonably dry for the last week, and so far Lorik had experienced no problems on the trail. He expected to see Stone come riding along any time. The young warrior may have taken his time loading and unloading Vera’s belongings, but he would make much better time on horseback than Lorik would hauling a heavy load of rice.

He made a fire, then saw to his horses. He unhitched them and made sure to give each of them a proper rubdown before hobbling them for the night. Then he secured a tightly woven cover over the rice. He wasn’t expecting rain, but he couldn’t be too careful. Thieves were also a problem in the Marshlands, and wagons left uncovered were easy to steal from. Eventually, Lorik would make his bed on the load of rice. It wasn’t a feather bed, but it was more comfortable than sleeping on the cold, soggy ground.

Finally, with his work through for the day, he settled next to the fire and had a mug of mead. He rarely cooked much on the trail, preferring dry rations. He ate one of the small, hard-crusted loaves of bread that the bakers in Hassell Point made and sold to the ships that came into harbor. The loaves resisted moisture and could keep for nearly a month before becoming too moldy to eat. He had cheese, smoked eel, and some fruit in his provisions, too, but he wasn’t hungry. He normally got to sleep quickly after seeing to his horses and eating a bite, but he decided to wait up for Stone. It made him nervous to have to sit and wait. His mind wandered to unhealthy ideas. The young warrior had made his way to Hassell Point through the Marshlands on his own, which was no mean feat. Still, he could have wandered off the path in the darkness and dropped into a pool of quicksand, or gotten stuck in the thick, sucking mud. Some men had gotten so bogged in the sucking mud that they had died without ever getting free.

Lorik pushed the thoughts away and watched the fire as it died down. There was plenty of scrub brush around to keep the fire going. It smoked profusely and sometimes it even stank, but it burned, and that was the important thing. It would attract Stone when he got close enough. Lorik just hoped that it wouldn’t attract anyone else in the meantime.

Chapter 8

When Stone got back to the Boggy Peat, he found the tavern filled with people. There were men and women, all coming to see what was happening with Vera. More than just a wench in Hassell Point, Vera had been working in the same tavern for so long, people were shocked to learn that she was quitting. When Vera had told Quaid, the stoic owner of the Boggy Peat actually shed tears. The news had spread through the town like a wildfire. Of course, most people assumed that she and Lorik were finally getting married. They came to wish her well, and most stayed for a pint of mead. When Stone arrived in the wagon to get Vera’s things, he was met by many angry looks and furious whispers.

“Are you ready?” he asked Vera.

“Yes, as ready as I’ll ever be,” she said.