The Black Sword Trilogy: The Four Nations (20 page)

             
When the ferry pulled into the dock, Terri, now greatly excited jumped out with Firth following behind her.

             
“Ten silver to wait an hour, pretty lady!” The ferryman called out to them.

             
“How much to wait until dawn?” Terri asked him.

             
“Twenty.”

She looked at Firth and then motioned with her head toward the ferryman.  He fished out two coins from his pocket and handed them to the ferryman.

              “You’re not really going to stay until dawn are you?” Firth asked her.

             
“You have a date?”

             
Terri and Firth strolled along the wide street and looking down every street that crossed it. 

             
“Looking for some place in particular?” Firth asked her.

             
“Some place I can get into trouble.

On each street was the same scene with brightly painted buildings and houses and people of all shapes, sizes and colors mulling about and going in and out of houses.  Terri then heard a man standing outside a three story building and under a large lamp
, yelling, “Get your drunk on!  Get your drunk on here!”  A man came flying out, followed by two others who kicked him while he lay on the ground.

“Where’s my money?” One screamed at him repeatedly.

“Ah,” Terri said.  “This is the place.”

“You can’t be ser
ious.” A worried sounding Firth said to her.

“Oh yes, I can.”

Terri then stepped over the man lying limp on the ground and to the door of the house.

It was a large public house with hundreds of people packed into its barely visible walls.  Some were seated at the dozens of tables on the floors and recesses.  Still others were standing at the long bar stretching across the length of the end of the room.
  They were all shouting and laughing.  A small group of musicians were playing lively music on a tiny stage at the far end and large breasted bar maids carried flagons; some with four or five in both hands to and from tables.

At first, no one seemed to ta
ke notice of either Terri or Firth as they walked in and tried maneuvering through the crowd toward the bar.  A very drunk woman then nearly tackled Firth, saying to him, “Are you my husband?”  Smiling politely, he pushed her off of him and into the arms of a very cross looking man.  No one also noticed Terri carrying a large, black bow across her body as nearly everyone was armed with swords, axes, knives and casually carrying clubs.  They were dressed in fine clothes, but not nearly as rich as the suits and dresses Terri had seen in the palace.  And nearly all of the men and many of the women were all wearing the same three-cornered hats.

Terri, with Firth hiding behind her was still pushing her way to the bar when a man spat out and sprayed ale all over h
er.

“Is that what I think it is, pretty lady?” He shouted at her.

“It could be.”

He then quickly disappeared.

              When the two of them finally made it to the bar, the music suddenly stopped and everyone looked angrily toward the stage.  Terri looked and saw the man who’d spat his ale on the stage and then heard him yell, “Oi!  We’ve got the lady with the Blackwood Bow in here tonight!”

The crowd went silent and then all eyes fell on Terri.  There was a tense silence for a moment, until Terri said, “That’s righ
t.  And who’s going to buy me a drink?”  Nearly every voice yelled at the top of their lungs and coins started flying at the bar.

             
A barmaid brought four flagons of ale to Terri, who took them all in her hands.

             
“This should be a good start.” Terri said happily.  “Now how ‘bout a table?”

The barmaid then barreled into the crowd, pushing, shoving men out of the way and knocking some to the floor.  She led Terri and Firth to a table occupied by four men.  Three were playing cards and the fourth was passed out
on the table.

             
“Get your asses up!” She yelled at them angrily and overturning the table.  The cards and drinks spilled to the floor and the three conscious men dragged their friend away.  She replaced the table in its spot and quickly, but neatly rearranged the chairs around it.

             
“Here you go.” She said sweetly and left them.

             
Almost the instant Terri and Firth sat down; there was a clamber of men and women pushing their way to Terri’s table.  Two wide-eyed men made it to the empty seats and then hundreds of voices started pouring excited questions at her.

             
“Have you been in many battles?”

             
“How many men have you killed?”

             
“What does Wolfen taste like?”

             
“Did you really kill twenty Silther with one shot?”

             
“A lot, they day’s not over, like chicken and yes.” She answered pointing at several men.

             
For the next couple of hours, it seemed like everyone in the house wanted to get close to Terri, shake her hand and ask her questions.

             
“What’s Kenner like in bed?” A woman asked.

             
“He’ll never get that lucky.” Terri answered to a roar of laughter.

             
“Is it true you can hit a fly in the ass from twenty miles away?”

             
“If I can see it, I can hit it.”

Every answer was followed by an eruption of approval or laughter.

              Flagons of ale and bottles of wine filled the table with neither Terri nor Firth every having to pay.  She drank as fast as she could, eventually losing count.  She felt a pleasant and numbing drunkenness wrapping around her and inside her.  She laughed and shouted.  She told stories and jokes in between gulps of wine and ale.  Occasionally, she would glance over at Firth who was gradually getting more and more handsome.  She even felt somewhat jealous as she saw a woman pass out and fall into his lap.

             
“Don’t you think we should be going soon?” She thought she heard him say at one point.  She answered by pouring the contents of a glass of wine into his face.

             
Later in the night, she heard singing.  Many people had been singing off and on throughout the night, but now every voice in the house was singing the same song and then another.

             
“If the sea were wine, I’d be a sailor

             
If the sky were beer, I’d be a bird

             
If the trees were ale, I’d be a climber

             
But without a good drink, I’m a turd.” Were the words to one song.

             
“Take me out to the ocean

             
Take me out to the sea

             
Feed me some tack and then fill me with ale

             
Give me the wind and then lower the sail

             
Let me cross the seas with the dolphins

             
Let the tide and the wind keep me free

             
For it’s a day, a week, a month and a year

             
On the endless sea.” Were the words to another.

             
“Sing us a song!” Someone cried out to Terri.  Drunk and slurred voices all shouted in agreement and then she slowly pulled herself from her chair.

             
“What kind of a song?” She stammered.

             
“Make it a sea song!”

             
“Right, we want to hear a song of the sea!”

             
“What makes you think a farm girl like me knows any sea songs?” She asked, barely able to stand.

             
“This is Sheyron, love!  The empire of the sea!”

             
“Right!  Sing us a song of the waves!”

S
he did remember a sea song that her mother, who was from Sheyron used to sing to her when she was a little girl.  She would sing it to her on stormy nights and when she couldn’t sleep.

             
“Alright!  Alright!  I got one.” She called out, nearly falling backward.

The room went quiet and Terri steadied herself somehow.

              “What would you be if the waves set you free?

             
And the wind in your hair sent you sailing to me?” She started singing.

Several people made happy noises as if they suddenly remembered the song and
then every voice joined her.

             
“Tied upon shore, would you weary no more?

             
What would you be?  What would you be?

             
What would I be if a hurricane came?

             
Would I be clever?

             
Would I be shamed?

             
Would I be helpless, cast up on the flame?

             
Where would I be?

             
Where would I be?

             
I will be here forever

             
Till the river runs into the sea

             
I will always be silent and hold my head up

             
Till we will be sailors no more

             
Where would we go?

             
In the sun or the snow?

             
Wander in memories?

             
Or let them all go?

             
Would we be dreamers, helplessly so?

             
Where would we go?

             
Where would we go?

             
I will be here forever

             
Till the river runs into the sea

             
I will always be silent and hold my head up

             
Till we will be sailors no more

             
I will be here forever

             
Till the river runs into the sea

             
I will always be silent and hold my head up

             
Till we will be sailors no more.  We will be sailors no more.”

She finished her song and then collapsed back into the chair to deafening shouts of approval.

              As the night went on, the house crowd began to thin.  More and more women and men began to leave of their own accord or get thrown out and soon there were no more than two dozen men and women left.  The musicians were packing up and Terri could just barely hear the barmaids saying “Goodnight” more and more often.

             
Memories started coming back to her, good and bad.  She remembered her family, then so far away; her friends at home and friends she’d made over her years as a soldier.  She saw their faces, heard their voices speaking and laughing and then she heard them screaming and crying in terror.  And then the whispering came back; “Murderer…murderer.”  Her ears began to feel the piercing pain she felt back in the Blackwoods as she battled with the creature.  She closed her eyes and then saw burning embers flying into the trees and then the forest becoming a blaze.  “You fool!  You bloody fool!” She heard Kayla screaming at her and still the whispering, “Murderer…murderer.”

             
“Are you alright?” She thought she heard Firth ask her.

She heard mumbling voices
close to her.  What were they saying?  Are they talking to me?  “Drunkard,” she heard.  “Filth.”  “Murderer.” 

             
Another voice came to her.  It was close, almost as if standing close to her.  There was a man wearing a brown coat and standing with a woman.  His back was turned to Terri, but she could still hear him.

             
“Drunken cow,” She heard.  “Murderer.”

She climbed to her feet and steadied herself.

              “What did you call me?” She said to the man.

Apparently he didn’t hear her.  She reached out, tugged at his
coat and he turned.

             
“What did you call me?” She demanded.

He said nothing.  He merely stood there and stared at her at first.  Then his form began to sway back and forth.  She felt dizzy and light.  Her legs felt soft and weak and she could barely stand.