Into Eden: Pangaea - Book 1 (17 page)

“And fall where?”

Seth shook his head as he walked along. “You ask too many questions. Not the wisest man that ever lived, not Herculous I or the Prophet himself could answer those questions.”

But Jesse did have questions, many questions about the world in which he lived that when his father was alive he either couldn’t—or wouldn’t answer and his tutors always made him feel stupid for asking. What made it worse was that he seemed to him to be the only one that ever thought beyond the obvious. His friends contented themselves with their daily pursuits. Perez had two passions: drinking and chasing girls. Abijah liked his drink as well, but shunned Perez’s fixation on the opposite sex as shallow. To Abijah, being content with one’s station in life was true wisdom. Ask no more than that, and think of nothing beyond. Enoch, Jesse thought, knew a lot about the world and those things beyond it that most men never pondered. But either because there were some secrets that he felt best hidden or out of respect for Jesse’s father’s memory and his father’s wishes Enoch would not discuss them. Only when pressed would he open up about the world and the gods, and then you could only press him so far. Somewhere, Jesse thought, there had to be someone that thought beyond the immediate, and knew the answers.

As their first day on the road was coming to an end, they had just decided to find a place to make camp when they saw the smoke of a farmhouse on the horizon. They pressed on for another three miles or so, and came to a small house that sat between the road and the river. A small picket fence kept the chickens in the yard from running off, and across the road was a large pen with sheep crowded into it, and a small barn.

The farmer came out to greet them. He was well into his middle years, mostly bald except for a ring of gray, scraggly hair that made a horseshoe of the back and sides of his head, missing most of his teeth, and as skinny as a rail. Despite his rough appearance, he was a friendly chap. “Hello, travelers!” he cried out, cheerfully. “Headed south are ya? Need a place to spend the night, do ya? I’ve got just the place! A good, soft stack of hay in the barn across the road, and for only five coppers apiece. The dog stays free. Can’t beat a price like that, can ya?”

Jesse started to say, “We’ll take it,” but before he could the man went on.

“Before you say, ‘No’ consider this: there’s not another soul between here and the way-station, and that’s another four-hundred miles. Yessir. Noth’n but wind and sand between here’n the way-station. Best to get one good night’s sleep and rest-up proper before you make a trek like that.”

Again Jesse started to say, “We’ll take it,” but again he was interrupted before he could accept the offer.

“One more thing. My daughter cooks a real good breakfast. For another copper each you can join us tomorrow morning at our table. The dog eats free. So…what’d say?”

“We’ll take it,” Jesse replied.

“Good! Good!” the man replied joyfully. “Now let’s see...that’ll be...” He squinted his eyes shut on his darkly tanned face as he calculated the cost of the night’s lodging. “Twelve coppers! In advance. Some of them sailors that’s come up here in recent days thought that they could sneak out without pay’n, so I have to get my money up front.”

“We understand,” Jesse replied, and handed the farmer twelve coppers from his purse.

“Say, farmer, I didn’t catch your name?” Seth asked.

“Oh. Sorry. I’m Elan, from the house of Scribner! Pleased to meet you!”

The two of them shook hands and Seth asked Elan, “Do you suppose…for another copper apiece that perhaps your talented cook of a daughter could provide us with an evening meal as well?”

At that Elan beamed, “Why sure! Be glad to! Two more coppers—in advance. The dog eats free!”

Jesse and Seth stowed their belongings in the barn, then went to join Elan and his daughter (whom he introduced as only, “my girl”). The girl was pretty, about Jesse’s age, wore men’s shirt and trousers and had hair cropped short enough that she could easily be mistaken for a boy were it not for her figure that was impossible to hide—even under the men’s clothes. Enoch, however, was not invited in.

“No dogs in the house! Don’t want a mess to clean up on the rug,” Elan explained. Upon hearing this, Enoch expressed his displeasure by wrinkling his nose almost to a snarl, and then trotted off.

Entering the house Seth was reminded of the old proverb, “You can’t judge a scroll by its cylinder.” For a primitive cottage occupied by an unkempt farmer and his daughter, the inside of the house fairly sparkled. The lavish rug that Elan was so concerned about was undoubtedly made from smuggled Eden silk. The table that they were to sit at was covered with an equally expensive lace tablecloth, held in place by a heavy silver candelabra. The dishes were made of fine white glazed Atlantan porcelain with blue pastoral images of the Atlantan countryside. Even the tableware was made of silver. The old man must save every penny that he makes on this parched farm to purchase all this finery, Seth thought.

In the kitchen Seth and Jesse could smell supper cooking. Seth was particularly relieved to see that the girl was frying fish. The “meat of the day” had finally changed.

They sat down to eat and Elan and his daughter joined them at the table. The conversation was mostly between Seth and Elan, with Jesse occasionally asking the girl to pass him a plate or a bowl of something. He really didn’t know how to talk to girls, he thought. And for a moment he wished that Perez was here to help him along.

Seth remarked casually that he was glad that they had fish to eat after weeks of nothing but mutton, when Elan replied, “Aye. Have to cut back on the mutton for a while. Foxes got into the pen and killed three of them in one night!”

“Foxes?” Seth asked. “Are you sure? They don’t usually bother with livestock as large as sheep—unless of course you lost some lambs.”

“Lambs? Gods, no! They took the biggest three that I had. And right out of the pen, too! If I hadn’t had too much of that Foothills beer the night before I’d have caught ‘em for sure!”

“So…” Seth continued, “you didn’t actually see these, ‘foxes?’”

“Nope. But I seen what they done.”

Seth glanced at Jesse, who had broken off from staring at the girl and glanced back at him. Both of them knew what the other was thinking.

“How long ago did this happen?” Seth asked.

“Just last night. All three in one night. Had to be a pack of them.”

“Foxes don’t usually travel in packs…are you aware of what happened two nights ago in Whitehurst? A lion killed a man on the city streets. It’s the talk of the town. I’d be careful if I were you, it may have been a lion that killed your livestock.”

“Nonsense. I may be an ignorant farmer, but I’m no fool! There’s no lions around here. I’ve been living here all my life—nearly five-hundred years now—and I’ve never seen a lion in these parts. Was foxes. Had to be.” Then, as if pushing the notion aside, he spoke to his daughter, “Girl! Get our visitors some beer! Let’s be social! Hop to it!”

The girl got up from the table, giving her father a serious look that Jesse didn’t know how to interpret. Was it fear? Concern? Anger? There was something about this whole situation that was not quite right, but he could not put a finger on it. A humble house that was furnished lavishly. A jovial man who as the evening wore on seemed to be morphing into a temperamental bully, and he suspected that Seth was sensing the same thing, too. But before he could contemplate these paradoxes further, the girl returned with two ornate steins filled with beer. Not bad, Jesse thought. Certainly better than the watered-down stuff that they served at the Emperor’s Inn in Whitehurst. Seth seemed to be enjoying his brew as well, and as the girl returned with two more for her father and herself, Jesse started to relax a little. It was just that the thought of Castor-Pollex being so close had upset him. He took another drink and realized that he was starting to feel a bit dizzy. He tried to set the stein down on the table carefully, but it tipped over, spilling the amber liquid over the white lace tablecloth. “I’m sorry,” he tried to say, but the words would not come out. Jesse felt himself sinking and glanced over just in time to see Seth collapse face-down on the table. His eyelids felt like lead, and he closed them as he tumbled from the chair to the floor. As if in the distance, he could hear Elan shouting at his daughter.

“Get that mess cleaned up, Girl! The next time that we have guests you’d better make sure that there’s no tablecloth for them to mess up or I’ll whip you for sure!”

Jesse could hear chairs being moved and dishes clacking, but he could not even turn his head or open his eyes to see what was happening. He had become suddenly paralyzed. He lay on the floor at an awkward angle, unable to do so much as straighten his leg. In the distance he could hear Elan shouting for the girl to bring him rope. He could feel someone jerking his boots off, and then removing his shirt and trousers.

“Lookee here, Girl! The boy’s got a money-belt on! Must weigh a ton! We’ve done good this time! You’ll have that new canopy bed for sure!”

“And you can get another horse!” She exclaimed cheerfully.

A couple of feet away Jesse could hear the farmer talking to a paralyzed Seth, “You see, ‘ol traveler. Them fish my girl fix ‘specially for you is ‘spiney fish.’ They live in the river, and is good eat’n, too. But spiney fish got them stingers. If one of them catches your hand it’ll sure ‘nuff make it go tingly. BUT, if you catch it first, and squeeze all that venom out of the stingers, you’ve got something that’ll make a man sleep for days. Just a few drops in some Foothills lager and he can’t even hold his glass. But don’t feel bad, ‘ol traveler. Many’s a man who’s sat at that very table and drank his last drink. I stopped count’n years ago. And many’s a man whose money has become mine and whose denari have paid for the fine glass that held your last drink. And tomorrow I’m gonna take you both down to the river in a ‘barrow and watch you go under. I love seeing the bubbles when you go down!” With that, Elan began to laugh as he finished stripping Seth of his clothing.

Now Jesse could feel his feet being tied together, and his hands being tied behind his back. Then he felt himself being dragged across the floor and down the front steps. They dragged him across the gravely road and into the barn where he was dragged across a dirty, splintery floor and finally left on some hay.

“Can we keep him?” he heard the girl asked.

“Keep him?” Elan exclaimed. “This ain’t no stray puppy. No! We’ll drown him in the morning, just like the rest.”

“But I like him. I think that he’s cute.”

“Listen, Girl. I know what cha thinkin. But the time isn’t right, why, you’re only ninety! It wouldn’t be right to marry off a girl as young as you! Another ten years and I’ll get you a man of your own just like I promised. Someone who understands our ways.”

By “ways” Jesse thought the farmer meant someone who could drown helpless, drugged travelers for their money-belts.

“Besides, this snooty rich boy wouldn’t give an ugly girl like you a second look! You’re too dumb for him, too. You’ve got to understand that you have nothing to offer a man ‘cept what’s in your britches.”

There was a long silence after that, and Jesse thought that the conversation had ended.

Then the girl spoke again, “Well…if I can’t keep him, can I watch you drown them?”

“Sure. We’ll do it together. You can help.”

“Yeees!” she replied, excitedly.

By now their voices were starting to fade as Jesse could hear them leave the barn and walk over to the house. In a few minutes, however, they were back, dragging Seth behind them. They dragged him in and left him right beside Jesse.

“Come on, Girl,” Elan said. “It’s already way after dark. Got to get some sleep if we’re going to take those two to the river in the morning.”

Jesse heard the barn door close and a large bolt slamming into place. He lay immobile on the hay clad in only his underwear, and the night air was cold, covering his skin with goose-pimples. But try as he might, he could not even move a finger. Where was Enoch? He thought. Enoch was now their only chance of getting out of this alive, and that chance wasn’t good. He and Seth would probably die in this house of horrors, drowned by a psychopathic farmer and his equally murderous daughter.

Jesse tried to will himself to move. Even a finger or toe would give him some hope, but it was no use. After a while he gave up, accepting the inevitability of his imminent death. Resigned to his fate, he was still too cold to sleep, so he lay there smelling the hay and sheep-dung. After what seemed like an eternity, he heard a clunking sound at the door. After a minute it stopped, and then started up again. Finally he could hear the barn door as it creaked open, and felt the cold wind as it rushed through the door and over his skin. At first he wasn’t sure who had opened the door, and then he could hear the soft “click-click” of Enoch’s claws as they crossed the barn floor.

Enoch stared at the two of them lying on the hay, not knowing what to do. He ran to Jesse. “Wake up!” he whispered in his ear, but there was no response. “Wake up!” he said a little louder, but there was still no response.

Jesse lay on the floor, fearing that Enoch’s pleas would awaken the farmer or his daughter. Can’t Enoch see that I can’t move?

Enoch pressed his nose close to Jesse’s nose and mouth. The air there was warm. Jesse was still alive. The farmer must have drugged both Seth and Jesse. He thought the situation over carefully. He was a big dog. He might be able to drag them some distance before the sun came up. But it wouldn’t take Homicide Harry and Deadly Diane long to find them. Of course, he could always attack. Hide out here in the barn and then jump them when they came back after their morning coffee. He might even be able to finish one of them off before they finished him off. But in the end all three would probably be dead. Just the same, he had to try something, even if it meant his life.

Why won’t you do something? Jesse thought. Anything! Don’t just let us lay here to be drowned like unwanted kittens! Finally, he thought, Enoch was chewing on the ropes.