CHAPTER TWO
The sky was tinted orange by the time the merchant team entered Seras. Isaac watched the Storm above, transfixed by the streaks of blue-white light dancing across the orange background. It was a beautiful scene, one which he could watch forever.
With only an hour of daylight left, Master Hamm’s first goal would be to secure lodgings at one of the city’s inns. Already, some of the residents—mostly children—were watching as the team made its way down the main thoroughfare. Master Hamm would only start selling his wares once he knew he had a place to stay for the night. Isaac waved cheerily at the youngsters who tagged along with the wagons.
Seras was much the same as he remembered. Houses lined the street, giving way to shops as they went further into the city. Other buildings, mostly two-story structures, stood along smaller roads and back alleys. Some houses appeared to be taller or shorter than others due to the rise and fall of the land. As with most small cities, the buildings here were not packed too close together; Isaac felt like he could suffocate in the larger cities because of the close proximity of the buildings. He liked open spaces; too many people in one place unnerved him.
The center of the city was a clear circular area, paved with swirling patterns in the cobblestones. It was more decorative than functional; its real purpose was to allow all the people of the city to gather in one large, open area. Already, lanterns hung from posts around the circle, illuminating the staging grounds for what would later be the place for festivities.
Isaac glanced at a house standing on a rise bordering the circle. It belonged to his old friend Marlow, the man who had taken him in so many years ago. Isaac had shown up on the man’s doorstep one night ten years ago, his only possessions being the clothing he was wearing and a small memento from his father.
Marlow had been like a father to Isaac since then. Isaac had regretted leaving him behind in Seras. He had other friends from his adolescence here as well, namely Claire. He still did not know how he was going to approach her.
The wagons pulled to a halt outside a wide building. A stable had been built next to the main building. A sign depicting a blue bird sitting on a tree branch hung above the doorway. It was the Bluebird Inn, generally regarded as the best in the city. It was not only a place of rest, but also served as a pub. People from out of town were not the only ones to frequent its common room.
Master Hamm huffed as he climbed down from his wagon and entered the inn. Brand sat like a statue as they waited, giving no indication of his thoughts. The man rarely made extended conversation, especially in unfamiliar territory.
After several minutes of waiting, Master Hamm and another gentleman of roughly the same shape and size emerged. The innkeeper, Heb, was a jolly fellow, letting out a deep-bellied laugh nearly every time he spoke. Isaac remembered him well; he was the one who allowed Isaac his first taste of ale, although Marlow had had a fit when he later found out. Still, Heb was a sincere man with good intentions.
“All right boys,” Hamm began, “we’re staying here tonight. Master Heb here will send out some of his workers to take care of the horses and wagons; Jensen, I want you to supervise them.” Isaac knew that Master Hamm simply did not trust anyone who did not work for him, but Heb had probably not noticed.
The rest of the team dismounted from the wagons, bringing their packs with them inside. The common room was filled with the familiar scent of ale, as a handful of men had already settled in for the night. Booths sat against the walls while circular tables dominated the center of the area. A long, polished counter stood against the wall to Isaac’s left. Across from him was a door leading into the kitchen, and the staircase was situated in the far right wall. A small, portable stage stood to one side and could be moved for a performance.
“All our rooms are on the second floor,” Heb pointed out. “The last four rooms on the left side of the main hallway will belong to your group.” Several of them groaned; no one liked sharing a room after traveling for so long. Isaac, however, had no intention to stay in the inn. He had a real home to go to.
The rest of the group headed up the stairs to get their things settled. Isaac made no move to follow them. Master Hamm shot him a glare.
“I suppose you think you’re staying somewhere else tonight, hmm?” Hamm questioned.
Isaac nodded. “That’s correct,” he answered. “If that is all right, of course.”
“Yes, yes, it’s fine,” Hamm said, waving a hand nonchalantly. “This is your home, after all. Just don’t cause any trouble for me.” Isaac suspected the man was also glad to have one less person to pay for.
Isaac grinned, nodded to Heb, and exited the building. More people were beginning to gather in the circle, although the festival would not begin for another hour or more. Isaac strode confidently toward Marlow’s house, ignoring the scowling eyes that tracked his progress. Apparently there were some who did remember him quite well.
He walked up the path leading to the front door and stopped. He knocked and waited; silence greeted him. He knocked again, pounding the door with his fist. Marlow was not growing any younger, and Isaac wanted to make sure he was heard.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” yelled a voice from inside. “Whatever the problem is, I’m sure it can wait a few more seconds.” Isaac waited for the familiar sound of locks clicking. Finally, the door opened away from him, revealing a tall man using a cane for support. His hair and beard were completely white, but his wrinkled face showed the strength of a younger man.
Marlow stood still for a moment, appraising the man standing before him. “Isaac?” he said slowly. A grin split his face, creating more furrows in his skin. “You’re back. I can’t believe it.”
Isaac opened his mouth to speak, but was suddenly gripped in a fierce hug. Marlow had surprising strength for a man of his age.
“It’s good to be back,” Isaac said through clenched teeth. Finally, Marlow released him, and Isaac could breathe again.
They stood in the doorway for a moment. Isaac could see Marlow sizing him up, judging how much Isaac had changed with an experienced eye. Marlow had always been one to examine the actions of others; it was a habit that he had picked up in the past, though he had never told Isaac exactly how he had.
“Well come in, boy,” Marlow said, grabbing him by the arm. “Don’t stand in the street gawking all day.”
Isaac followed the older man into the house, moving through a spacious living room into a well-furnished dining room. Not much had changed in the house, although the extra chairs that had once surrounded the dining table were now gone.
He took a seat and waited as Marlow walked into the kitchen. He limped slightly on his right leg, although Isaac suspected the cane was more out of propriety than real necessity. He had seen the man be quite spry in the past.
Marlow reemerged with two glasses of a dark red liquid. Isaac cocked his head quizzically at the sight.
“What?” Marlow asked.
“I never knew you drank much wine,” Isaac answered.
Marlow snorted. “Just because I don’t drink the stuff doesn’t mean I can’t own it. Besides, this is a special occasion: You have returned, and the Summer Festival is tonight. I have cause to celebrate.”
Isaac accepted the cup and took a sip; it was quite rich. Marlow had always frowned on drinking, finding it a rather unrefined activity. Isaac found the irony of wine being unrefined quite amusing.
“So,” Marlow said at last, “how have you been, Isaac?”
It was a simple question—for anyone but Marlow. He would want to know every detail of Isaac’s journey since leaving Seras.
“I’ve been well,” he said. “I’ve learned a lot these past three years. Not just about trading, but other things. Important things.”
He idly reached into his pocket and pulled out a smooth round object, no more than an inch and a half across. He often rolled it around in his hands when pressed into conversation.
“I see you still have that memento your father gave you,” Marlow said, nodding to it. The gemstone had a polished blue-violet surface, ingrained with white lines radiating from the center. It reminded him of the Storm, like someone had captured its essence in this piece of finery.
Isaac nodded absently. “Of course. I haven’t been able to let it go, not yet.”
“Did you find anything out about your parents out there?”
“No,” Isaac said solemnly, shaking his head. “I don’t really know what I expected to find; we didn’t even spend much time in Aldera. Seras is one of the first stops now that we’re back. Master Hamm intends to make his way north, to Therin.”
“Will you go with them?” Marlow asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Isaac replied. He returned the memento to his pocket. His father had never told him what it was, only saying that it was important. Soon after, his parents had been killed in one of the first conflicts of the war. Isaac still remembered, ten years later, his mother’s lifeless gaze staring up at him….
He shook his head, determined to put such thoughts out of his mind. He did not like to dwell on the past. Still, Isaac had harbored a tiny hope that maybe, even after all this time, that his father might still live.
Banishing his thoughts, Isaac took a deep breath, preparing to ask the question that had been weighing on his mind for the past few months.
“Marlow,” he said, “how is Claire?”
The other man sat still for a minute, idly swirling his wine. “She’s fine, last I knew,” he said. He caught Isaac’s eyes. “She left, Isaac. Almost a month ago, she decided it was her time to see the world. Like you, Isaac.”
“I see,” Isaac murmured, looking into his wine. He really had not known what to expect. He and Claire were the same: restless, curious. He should have realized she would not stay for long in Seras.
“Did she go alone?” he asked.
Marlow sighed. “I’m afraid she did, son. She left a note for her parents and was simply gone one morning.”
“That foolhardy girl,” Isaac said, gritting his teeth. “She should have known better. There are always dangers out there: bandits, animals, the war. Why would she do something so foolish?”
“Oh?” Marlow said, raising one eyebrow. “You mean to tell me you wouldn’t have done the same? I recall quite well how insistent you were to leave when you were her age. I barely got you to wait a year longer before you took off with that merchant.”
Isaac felt his cheeks growing hotter. He went back to looking at his wine. Marlow was right, of course. If the old man had not stopped him, Isaac would have left Seras many times in the past by himself. Finally, when he had turned twenty, Isaac had been able to convince Marlow to let him go.
“I just wish she could have waited a little while longer,” Isaac said. “Do you know where she’s headed?”
Marlow nodded. “She said she wanted to go to Therin, to try to make a difference there. She wants to travel, yes, but that girl has big aspirations too. Sometimes it seems as though she wants to help the whole world.”
Isaac smiled. Claire’s passion for helping others rivaled that of her temper. She had always been small, and more often than not had gotten into fights over her size. However, she could not stay angry for long and would always end up apologizing for her actions.
“You said you’ll be traveling that way too, didn’t you?” Marlow asked.
“Yes,” Isaac said. “But it will probably be a good three months before we make it to Therin.”
Marlow rubbed his chin, thinking. “A man from Therin just arrived here several days ago, actually; a soldier, from the look of him.”
“What is a soldier from Therin doing here?” Isaac asked, scowling. Soldiers were never a good sign. “And why is he alone?”
“I’m not sure. He came in from the south, just as you did. I suspect he is on his way back to Therin. He was fairly secretive about his purpose here, but I don’t believe he means us any harm.”
Isaac’s scowl deepened. He knew that soldiers from the south had been the ones to destroy his home, but he found it hard to trust any of them. Many of the soldiers he had met fought for the pay, not their king or country.
“I know that look,” Marlow said. “Don’t be thinking about getting into any trouble with that man. He’d chew you up and spit you out in a heartbeat.”
“I would never go that far,” Isaac said. “You know I would rather have a debate than a brawl.” It was true. Brand had taught the older members of the team the basics of fighting with a sword. Isaac had picked it up fairly quickly, but he still preferred finding a solution through conversation, not sheer force. Unfortunately, it always seemed that not many people shared his opinion.
He turned and looked out the window behind him. The sun was dipping behind the horizon, casting elongated shadows across the land. The Summer Festival would begin in an hour or so. He wondered if they were having the same celebration in Therin. They most likely were not; the rumors said that groups of refugees were trickling into Therin daily, and it was growing increasingly difficult to find a place to live there. He only hoped Claire was safe.
He downed the last of his wine and stood. “I’m going for a walk,” he said.
“All right,” Marlow said. “I will see you later then, Isaac. Make sure you enjoy yourself tonight. Don’t be wallowing around now.”
Isaac stopped at the door. “I’ll do my best,” he said, stepping out into the street.
Marlow stood in the doorway for a time after Isaac had left. The boy—man, rather, although he found it hard to view him as such—had always been reckless and headstrong. Although, Marlow could not fault him for being so; he too had been like that in his youth.
It was clear that Isaac had grown much over the course of the past three years. He was still his usual self, but Marlow could see the signs in the way he spoke and acted. Yes, Isaac had grown out of the boy he had been. Marlow wondered how, and when, it had happened. Maybe traveling across the lands with that merchant had been a good idea after all.
A figure appeared in the doorway of the Bluebird Inn across the square. It began moving about in a seemingly random, inconspicuous manner, but Marlow discerned that the stranger was making its way toward his house. From the way it walked, he knew it was a man—an old friend of his, no less.
“Welcome back, my old friend,” Marlow said as the man drew closer.
Brand grunted, his gnarled face showing a scowl, meaning he was pleased. People had always mistaken Brand for a grumpy fellow, but Marlow knew the truth about the man.
“Marlow, you old dog, you’re still alive?” Brand joked, giving a raspy chuckle. He gripped Marlow’s hand firmly and shook it.
Marlow smiled. Brand was a friend from days long gone by, when they had been young men traveling the world, much like Isaac. “Well, don’t just stand there. Come in already.”
He led Brand to the dining room and offered him the seat Isaac had recently vacated. He poured a glass for the other man; he still had some of his left from before. With a grunt, he lowered himself back into the chair.
“So, how have you been my friend,” Marlow asked, sipping his wine.
“Well enough,” Brand replied. He took a large swig of wine and managed a smile. “I’m not getting any younger, that’s for certain.”
Marlow nodded. “Neither am I. I trust Isaac hasn’t given you any trouble over the years.”
Brand sat quietly for a moment. “That boy is something else, Marlow,” he said finally. “He’s one of the most polite young men I’ve ever met, but he won’t hesitate to give his opinion. He may be too clever for his own good, sometimes.” He paused. “He’s a good man, though. I’ll be sorry to see him go.”
“I’m not quite sure what he will do,” Marlow added. “I think he wants to go to Therin immediately. How he intends to do so, I haven’t a clue.”
They fell silent, each to his own thoughts. “The world is changing, Marlow,” Brand said grimly. “I have seen it. This civil war in Aldera is just a start. There is tension in other countries as well. There has been talk of strange things happening in the night. I’ve even heard rumors of rogue Vorkyr leaving their herds and attacking people. It’s crazy, I tell you.”
Marlow frowned. “I’ve been hearing the same things, although I am more concerned about the future of this nation at present. What have you heard about the war?”
“There have been whispers of a new weapon in the south,” Brand said. “The northern forces have been holding the frontlines, but something has changed recently, according to my sources. These are not good times to go out alone.”
Marlow wondered how Claire was faring. He cared for the girl greatly; her closeness to Isaac had made her something of a daughter to him. He could not let Isaac go alone to Therin. Maybe, if he could get another word in with that soldier, he could persuade him to go with Isaac….
He glanced out the window. Darkness had descended on the city, and a bright orange glow was emanating from the square as men prepared for the coming festivities.
“Well, we can gossip and worry like a couple of elderly ladies later,” Marlow said, rising with some effort. He really was feeling old today. “I say we go enjoy the Summer Festival like we used to.”
Brand chuckled, standing and following his friend to the door. “I always did like coming to Seras at this time of year. The people here are always so friendly.”
They stepped outside, and Marlow pulled the door closed behind them. Lanterns ringed the square, and tables and chairs had been set up around the edges for the feast that would take place. Like Isaac, Marlow enjoyed the atmosphere of a small city; almost everyone knew each other, making for a safer and healthier environment.
He took a deep breath of the warm night air. “Well, let’s get moving,” he said. “We wouldn’t want to miss the opening.” He started forward, Brand at his side. On nights like this, Marlow felt it was appropriate to stop worrying for a while and just enjoy life.
After all, he would have plenty of time to worry later.
