Eyerthrein chuckled. “You just can’t stay out of trouble Dael. Fairlawn was walled hamlet north of here that was destroyed in a massacre centuries ago. An evil sorceress attacked the town and the town’s Baron bravely resisted. Few survived. The Baron is eulogized in the songs of the bards. The heritage of Woeste of Fairlawn has outlived that of his slayer- I can’t recall her name! The monks of the Calamitous Forest created a shrine in the memory of Baron Woeste; the statue stands near the foothills. This hamlet, though small, is very old. It was founded shortly after Fairlawn was laid waste. The battle of Fairlawn contains the first mention of the priestess Knarra in the annals of history.”

“Is there anything about history that you don’t know?” Erinnia asked.

“Yes. I don’t know where you come from and I don’t know where the great Ravenna went,” Eyerthrein honestly answered.

“Then you’re a little short in your knowledge of red-haired elves,” Dael sarcastically added.

Erinnia pouted.

Eyerthrein pouted.

At the other table Cara said, “This is an odd situation. We know our final destination. Calaiz tells us that. The demon Uyrg tells us that. Our foe makes no secret of his location. We know from Eomore’s ordeal the location of the Assassin’s Fortress called Infernos which supposedly hides the Death of Magick. What we don’t know is the location of the lair of the Banshee΄. Beavertown is a day’s ride down river. Rancide is another day away. Rancide is a very old city. It’s as old as Lyndyn; maybe as old as Hillesdale. Rancide is governed by a Baron. It always has been. The Barons have never been able to unite. Lawlessness persists beyond the city’s limits. We saw that on the river. We’ll canoe to Beavertown tomorrow if everyone is in agreement. I doubt we’ll learn much until we reach Rancide.”

“Nice summary, Cara. We must be careful here. Rooms are available now. No one! No one should go out alone,” Nigel said.

 

 

Otho McNeal wandered off.

The party reassembled and launched the canoes into the river.

Both sides of the river were lined with greenery plush from the midsummer rains and long days. The foothills were a welcomed sight. So were the boat docks that began to appear on both sides of the river. As they traveled small but increasing expanses of land appeared on both sides of the river and separated the foothills. Trading posts became settlements. Nigel suggested they wait to stop in one of the first larger settlements. He reckoned the likelihood of security increased in a thriving community.

They stopped at a settlement that extended to both sides of the widening river. The eastern fork of the Luumic was fed by streams from the mountains. They anchored the canoes and went to the first tavern they saw. They received suspicious glances from the locals. These many strangers traveling together were unusual. In this area, no one asked another his business. Elves were common in the towns of the East particularly those south of the river as one neared the great swamp. Dwarves were uncommon, and most of the dwarves come came to the towns of the East were ornery Mountain dwarves and they usually were best left alone. Boomer looked pretty tough. He had scars from battles with birdmen, wailers, shape changers, goblins, hobgoblins, assassins, trolls, gnolls, wolves, bears, bartenders, gypsies, tramps, and thieves. You name it, and Boomer had fought it- at least to hear him tell it.

“What’s the name of this place?” Dael asked.

“What difference does it make? You are just here to get a meal and a little rest,” Cyttia said grumpily.

The long trek down the river had brought out their cantankerousness!

A trip to the tavern once again lightened their spirits. Knarra joined them. The tavern was the Jewel of the Luumic and the little town was called New Fairlawn. They separated into the usual groups. Eyerthrein, Kyrsstina, Dael, Cyttia, Vanni, Erinnia, and the young at heart Cade sat at one large wooden table.

Knarra, Cara, Eomore, Roscoe, Big Jon, Lyana, Nigel, and Boomer sat at another table.

The bartender was a woman named Jewel. She brought them ale and cured meat.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, why do we bring the King with us if our goal is to maintain his safety?” Lyana queried.

Knarra answered, “He can be no safer than with us. No wall can keep our opponent from reaching him. We offer his best chance.”

Cara and Eomore agreed.

“Why is this place called ‘New Fairlawn’?” Dael asked the barmaid.

“Shut up and drink your ale!” she growled.

“That’s not a way to get a nice tip!” Dael countered.

“Don’t work for tips! These blokes don’t tip! I work by the hour! I’m just making eight. Do you want anything else?” she asked gruffly.

Nigel led the captured pirate off the boat

“What is your name?” Cara asked the pirate.

The burly grizzled man said nothing.

Cara said, “Look into my eyes. You have seen hardship and pain. There is only warmth in my eyes. Do you feel warm? Do you feel safe? Touch my hand. It’s OK. Do you feel my touch? It’s OK to enjoy it. Tell me your name. Imagine you are massaging my back. Imagine my chest against yours.”

The Charm was effective.

Nigel said, “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. What do you want to know?”- And laughed.

Dael said, “What do you want to know, Erinnia?” -and laughed.

Cara answered, “Like father, like son. The nut doesn’t fall far from the tree. I’ll tell Deanne of your mischief, Nigel.”

Erinnia tried to ignore Dael’s suggestive comment and said, “I see mistletoe in some of these trees.”

She went into the woods.

“My name is Otho. Otho McNeal,” the man answered.

He stared lovingly into Cara’s eyes.

“Where are you from Otho?” Cara asked.

“I’m from Rancide. I am wanted by the Baron Munch Housen.  He claims I broke his laws,” Otho answered.

“Did you break his laws?” Cara asked.

“Well, uh…yes, I did. I killed two of his guards. But it was a fair fight!” Otho declared.

“Tell me about Rancide. I’m a law breaker as well. Where is the best place to find reliable information? Who can you bribe? Who can you trust?” Cara asked.

“Ha! You can’t trust anybody, pretty one. You can buy discretion at the establishment of Morck Bhroades. Tell Morck that Otho sent you. Give him a few Dakin too. The tavern at his place, the Dead End Inn, is frequented by persons with, shall we say, information. May I have one kiss?” Otho asked.

“Otho, you won’t remember anything you have heard today. Your mates met tragedy on the river. You will go to Rancide and confess your crimes. You will say that the sheriff of Knottington advised you to do so. Go now,” Cara said.

Otho McNeal wandered off.

Big Jon and Cara extended oars to two pirates who landed in the water near their boat. One successfully grabbed the oar but the second was swept under by a voracious pi ranna. Big Jon pulled the pirate aboard and Nigel strategically placed his dagger near the man’s throat. Eomore and Boomer bound the pirate securely with a rope from Cara’s pack.

“Keep your mouth shut. I’ve not garroted anybody this week. You haven’t seen tough. We eat river pirates! We’re from Gonnagitgee. It’s the meanest town in the west. May I eat his ears?” Nigel smirked.

The captured pirate was better off than his mates. When pirate ship sank, twenty-five pirates vanished beneath the blood tinged waters.

“Those fish attacked with tactics! Fish are mindless, but they worked together. They were several different types of fish! Why didn’t they attack us? Why don’t they attack us?” Lyana Rikmon pondered.

“I think I know,” Cara said as she glanced back at the second boat.

Erinnia stood with her eyes focused on the water and her right arm extended.

“How did you do that?” Dael asked.

“It was a bit of luck. I’ve never tried an Animal Control spell on fish before. It worked pretty well didn’t it?” the elf answered honestly.

Eyerthrein peddled furiously.

“Whoa! What’s your hurry?” Cyttia said as the second canoe slipped past the first.

“I want to get off this river. I didn’t know there was such nasty stuff beneath the waters. I’m not sure I’m ever going to eat fish again! I don’t want them holding any grudges!” Eyerthrein answered.

The young light sorcerer’s enthusiasm was contagious and the others joined him. Tree-covered foothills appeared in the distance on both sides of the river.

Aching muscles encouraged them to slow the pace of their rowing.

“Why haven’t we seen any crocs?” Dael asked.

“We are too far north,” Cade answered. “Rarely a white croc may venture into the Luumic’s tributaries but you find them mainly in the Lachinor.”

They rested and the current carried them to the wooded areas in about an hour. They found an accessible area on the northern side of the river which was large enough to anchor the canoes. They went ashore. Everyone welcomed the opportunity to rest.

Nigel led the captured pirate off the boat

 

 

They came to the big bend in the river than led southward. Nigel reported this was the halfway point. Just ahead they saw another boat approaching. Nigel directed the canoes to the right side of the river to allow the other boat passage. The other boat turned to intercept them. The craft was about thirty feet long and manned by oarsmen, but several armed men stood in the center of the large outrigger with bows pointed in their direction.

“River pirates! Show no quarter!” Nigel whispered to those in the first canoe.

Cara stopped Roscoe from sending the Lightning Bolt spell from his staff.

She said, “Let’s try to avoid revealing our powers to them.”

“My queen, they are ruthless. In a moment, their bows will be in range,” Nigel warned.

Knarra added, “Let’s allow them to believe we are helpless. Lie down, Eomore.”

The king squeezed down into the bottom of the wide outrigger.

Cara said, “Keep on the simple cloak Big Jon, and stand with me.”

The group in the second canoe could not hear the conversation but could see the purposeful behavior of the approaching boat. Cade and the young spell casters waited for direction from the leaders. To their surprise Cara stood and raised her hands into the air.

“What in the Lachinor is going on? They are surrendering,” Cade marveled.

Big Jon Loxly stood beside the queen and wore one of the simple robes they had used as disguises in Eaden.

The river pirates came alongside the first canoe. One of the pirates spoke.

“Give me your Dakin and I might let you live. My, my! You are a saucy one, lassie. You’re elfish. Why do you travel with such ilk?” he said.

“We are simple travelers. We seek a new start,” Cara said.

“That’s too bad. I’m afraid your journey is going to end right here. You are worth more than any baubles you might have,” the pirate sneered as he prepared to throw a grappling hook.

His mates drew their bowstrings taut.

Cara started to throw the pinch of sulfur she held between her thumb and index finger into the pirate ship when something leapt out of the water. A pi ranna ripped off the arm of the pirate who held the grappling hook.

A giant winged gar fish jumped from the river and snapped its jaws onto the same pirate. The unfortunate brigand screamed in agony.

The gar was seven feet long and had rows of razor sharp teeth that ripped into the man. The big fish fanned the air with its wings; the wings could propel the giant gar fifty paces or so out of the water. The pirate howled as the fish dragged him over the side of the boat and into the water. A second flying fish leapt from the water and attacked another pirate. He suffered a severe bite as the fish left him and reentered the water. A third gar flew through the air and knocked two pirates over the side of the boat. Several round-faced pi ranna ripped them apart.  The pirates who had trained their bows on Cara’s party dropped the bows and drew their swords. Several flying fish attacked the pirates who ripped the air with their blades in futile attempts to ward off the fish.

Sounds of splintering wood permeated the air.  A hammer head fish smashed his bony head against the frame of the pirate ship over and over again. The wood splintered as the boat began to break apart. A sword fish stabbed its blade-like proboscis into the wood of the doomed boat and opened more apertures. The boat rapidly took on water and sank.

The tavern was busy; there were probably twenty customers. Most were unsavory types. Nigel had no trouble fitting in. The thief sought the Innkeeper, bartered with him, and returned to Cara.

“The rates are pretty steep. He offered to throw in some fringe benefits but I told him rooms and hot meals were all we required. I advise going easy on the ale and avoiding the vintage. We must keep our wits,” Nigel reported.

Borse Badinough was a rough customer but he ran an orderly inn and the food was hot; the ale was not what they would expect from a good tavern in Lyndyn or Hillesdale. He led them to clean but austere rooms which served the purpose. Lumpy bedding was better than no bedding.

The next morning they were up at dawn. The thorns were stained with the blood of would be perpetrators. Erinnia removed the spell. They reached the entrance to the gap through the mountains about midday. It was hot and muggy and tempers were short. The river remained fifty to one hundred feet wide and the cliffs were sheer in most areas. There were frequent turns.

A rare poisonous pi ranna circled the boats.

The pi ranna was always three and fourteen one-hundredths feet long. No one had ever seen a baby pi ranna.

“If one gets close enough to the boat, I’ll spear him,” Nigel said.

“They would be easy to hit with a spell,” Dael added.

“Sure, but where would the sport be?” Nigel answered.

“Sport? Fishing is work!” Eyerthrein added. “We are working hard enough pulling these oars. How far do we travel through the mountains? There’s nothing but sheer rock on both sides of the river. When do we rest?”

“Shut up and row!” Cyttia added.

A large red fish jumped over the second boat, splashed in the water, drenched the rowers, and cooled them. The rock walls prevented cooling breezes and the midday heat was uncomfortable.

Erinnia chilled them with a Control Weather Spell. Erinnia’s spell created small clouds about twenty feet in diameter which centered over each canoe. The little clouds dropped a gentle rain upon them; she allowed a mini-bolt of lightning to zap Eyerthrein on the backside. The mischief hurt no more than a pinch and brought some brief relief from the tension.

“Very funny!” Eyerthrein said as he rubbed the area.

Three Forks was two days down river. The barge stopped and made deliveries to several small hamlets and the group refreshed on the stops. Boomer and Nigel found the nearest ale and usually dragged the youths with them. Knarra and Cara did not insist on temperance, only moderation. Cade’s stories always got better after the treks to the taverns. They spent the night under the stars because the weather was pleasant and they wanted to continue to make progress down the river.

They arrived at Three Forks at midday and disembarked.

Nigel had talked at length about strategies once they were in Three Forks. The merchants were crafty and expensive but not cutthroats. They would find plenty of cutthroats in Rancide!

Nigel advised against hiring a captain and crew. It would be unlikely that any honest captain would be willing to risk the trip anyway. They bought two sturdy outriggers from the local fish monger. The poor fisherman would be able to retire with the price Knarra insisted on paying. He asked two thousand Dakin but the priestess insisted on paying twenty thousand! Eomore wore a simple cloak and kept his identity hidden.

Cara was approached by several river men with less than honorable intentions.

Eyerthrein, Kyrsstina, Dael, Cyttia, Vanni, Erinnia, and the young at heart Cade got into one large wooden canoe.

Knarra, Cara, Eomore, Roscoe, Big Jon, Lyana, Nigel, and Boomer got in the second canoe.

The canoes were made of bluewood! An axe would barely scratch the remarkable wood.

The river narrowed after they left Three Forks. They traveled a day without incident, but nightfall found them in the shadows of the great peaks of the Southern Mountains which created the eastern border of Donothor. The number of settlements had diminished.

Nigel said, “This is about it! The lights ahead on the north side of the river are those of the hamlet Eaden. There is nothing east of Eaden loyal to the crown of Donothor. This is a rough place. Expect no charity. Give no more detail of our party than necessary. We need rest. The passage through the mountains will be arduous. We must secure the boats.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Erinnia said.

The elf touched the bluewood canoes and a Hedge of Thorns formed over the two canoes. The boats were covered by innumerable thick foot long thorns as strong as porcupine quills.

Boisterous sounds came from a tavern ahead. A sign over the door read “The Blushing Barmaid: B. Badinough, prop.”

The great River Luumic occupied a vital position in the history of Donothor. The source of the river was the springs in the mountains north of Lyndyn. The river divided into three branches at Three Forks, the bustling town situated at the trifurcation, was now the third largest in Donothor, only behind Lyndyn and the dwarves’ city Hillesdale. The great river’s eastern branch flowed from Three Forks, entered the Southern Mountains, exited to the East, and was thought to reach a great sea far away. The middle branch widened south of Three Forks, merged with the marshes of the Lachinor, and was impassible. The western branch flowed past Fort Luumic and meandered to the Great Western Sea. The western branch was well known to the peoples of Donothor.

Barges carried finished goods from Lyndyn to Three Forks and places south including Fort Luumic and communities such as Tindal, Prille, and Kanath. The flow of the river facilitated the transportation of finished goods. Traveling upriver was another story. Beasts of burden carried raw materials, and titanosteers, oxen, and sometimes the strong backs of river men pulled barges upstream.

The journey from the Fane to the Luumic was only an hour by horse and wagon. Deron grudgingly remained behind and grumbled about Boomer’s being “too old” under his breath.

They chose to ride on two barges. Knarra, Roscoe, Eomore, Cara, Boomer, Big Jon Loxly, Lyana Rikmon, and Nigel rode on the first barge. Eyerthrein, Kyrsstina, Dael, Cyttia, Vanni, Erinnia, and Cade rode on the second.

The river flowed briskly but smoothly. To their left they saw the Iron Mountains in the distance. Rich farmlands bordered the river. To the right they saw the Misty Forest. The low peaks had a deceptively peaceful appearance. Hamlets cropped up frequently on both sides of the river, but those on the right were always walled. Barges laden with raw goods were drawn upriver. Not that many generations ago brigands threatened any river traffic. The Aivendars and their allies created a milieu of peace and prosperity.

This was in jeopardy.

Everything was in jeopardy.

Three Forks was two days down river. The barge stopped and made deliveries to several small hamlets and the group refreshed on the stops. Boomer and Nigel found the nearest ale and usually dragged the youths with them. Knarra and Cara did not insist on temperance, only moderation. Cade’s stories always got better after the treks to the taverns. They spent the night under the stars because the weather was pleasant and they wanted to continue to make progress down the river.

They arrived at Three Forks at midday and disembarked.

“Welcome, Nigel. We’re discussing tomorrow- travel to be specific,” Knarra said.

Nigel replied, “I’ve been studying that. Although Fort Luumic and the dwarves’ lands are secure, the most direct route to the realm of the Dark Elves and presumably the lair of the Banshee΄ is through Rancide in the East. We could hop on the barges that are leaving for Three Forks and the Fort tomorrow. At Three Forks, we can travel by boat on the eastern branch of the Luumic through the Southern Mountains to Rancide. This is a little risky. The eastern branch of the Luumic is still roamed by brigands. Commerce has not spread to the East. The river gets a little rough at places in the gap where it runs through the mountains, but it is navigable in all areas. I’ve traveled it…in my younger days. Rancide is still rough. The barons of the East broke up the assassin’s guild long ago. However the East remains a territorial place. There is not an organized central government as there is here in Donothor and there is nothing like the Rangers. There is the odd river monster also, but we are going to run into that problem everywhere we go once we leave Donothor. If this bunch went through the Misty Forest two or three more times there would be a shortage of monsters there. We won’t have to care for steeds also. Just a steed’s rear if Boomer goes with us.”

“Blast you, Louffette! Only you could ruin the peace of a late afternoon smoke. I’m half a mind to take you outside and spank your britches!” Boomer growled gnawing on the stem of his briar pipe.

“Don’t strain yourself Boomer! You barely have half a mind!” Nigel retorted and chuckled.

“All right, that’s it! Me and you right now!” the dwarf fumed.

Nigel laughed.

The moment of levity was shared in the fading light of the warm afternoon. Boomer laughed as well when he realized that Nigel was teasing him.

“Let me have some of that leaf,” Nigel requested.

Boomer passed him the pouch and he filled his pipe. The old friends stared across the tranquil lands surrounding the Fane.

“What an astonishing thing a book is. It’s a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles. But one glance at it and you’re inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs. Books break the shackles of time. A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic.”