Lorik (The Lorik Trilogy) (22 page)

“We’d still feel better with one or the both of you around to make sure things get back to normal.”

“It’s going to be a new normal,” Lorik said. “You’ll need to keep a small armed force employed until the King gets back from playing war.”

“You think the army will be gone long?” the innkeeper asked.

“It’s hard to say. There hasn’t been a full-scale war in centuries,” Lorik explained. “Who knows why it’s happening now? All we can do is go on living. The Earl will hear about Thuryk’s attack, and surely he’ll send some help from Yorick Shire.”

“I hope you’re right. All these rumors of war and dragons in the north, it makes an old man like me nervous.”

“We’ll be back before too long. No more than three weeks I would think,” Lorik said. “We’ll check in on you.”

“Good,” said the innkeeper. “You’ll always have a room here, Lorik. Both of you.”

“We appreciate it,” Lorik said.

They gathered their belongings and set out. The wagon rumbled along the road as they made their way to the lumber mill. It took a full hour to get the lumber they needed. The neatly stacked wood was then tied down and covered once again with canvas.

“That lumber won’t be as comfortable as the rice,” Stone said ruefully.

“True enough,” Lorik said. “But it will be better than sleeping in the mud. Let’s go.”

They rode back past the town, Lorik driving the wagon pulled by his two big Shire horses, Stone riding his mare. The people who saw them waved.

“I would have thought you’d have known more of those people,” Stone said. “Haven’t you been trading here for years?”

“Sure,” Lorik said. “But I’ve always dealt with the men. I didn’t really know the womenfolk or farmers.”

“That makes sense,” Stone said. “I guess there’s no chance the story of what we did won’t leave the town.”

Lorik smiled, then said, “No chance at all.”

They rode on in silence for a while longer. They made camp by a small stream and were enjoying the last of the fresh rations the innkeeper had given them. There was still plenty of mead in the keg on their wagon, despite the fact that Roran had drunk more than his share after Stone and Lorik left him outside of town. They had been sitting for a while, watching their small fire and listening to the gurgle of the stream.

“I don’t want a bad reputation,” Stone said.

Lorik didn’t answer at first, but considered what the younger man was saying. He’d always been told by his father that a good reputation was worth more than gold, but he didn’t think Stone was in danger of getting a bad reputation for being lazy or dishonest.

“What do you mean?” Lorik asked. “I get the feeling you’re talking about the fight.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Stone said without looking up from the fire. “I want to put those ways behind me. Trouble always seems to come looking for men with a bad reputation. I’ve seen it all my life.”

“Well, saving a town doesn’t give you a bad reputation,” Lorik said.

“No, but killing a well-known outlaw like Thuryk will.”

“You think doing that makes us some kind of target?”

“Yes, in certain circles. People who consider themselves to be fighters are always looking to prove themselves. The best way to do that is to fight people with a reputation.”

“Most of the bad guys in these parts are outlaws. They’re too dumb and mostly too craven to want to fight anyone fairly.”

“Where’d you learn to fight with an axe like that?” Stone asked.

“In Hassell Point,” Lorik said jovially. “I was young once. I got into a fight or two. My dad didn’t want me to carry a sword. He was afraid I’d be mistaken for one of the pirates or outlaws, so he gave me a small hand axe. I used to train with it everyday, although I’ve never really fought with one. By the time I was old enough to really use it, I was smart enough to know I didn’t want to.”

They let the fire die, and Stone took the first watch while Lorik slept. It was a quiet night that passed quickly. After a trading places with Lorik, Stone slept a few hours, and at dawn they set off again. The road was crowded by thick woods on either side. They made camp just outside the Marshlands that night.

It took four more days to reach Hassell Point. They delivered their load of wood to Hollist’s farm and informed him of the situation with the rice. The farmer seemed pleased, and they got back to Lorik’s property just before dark. They saw Vera sitting on the porch. She waved to them as they rode past the house and made their way to the barn.

After seeing to their horses they returned to the house. Vera had made them a quick meal of stewed vegetables, rice, and cheese. There was fresh bread and wine, too. They sat at the small table, and Lorik watched as Vera and Stone took turns glancing shyly at one another. After eating he stood up and stretched.

“That was delightful,” he told Vera. “It’s amazing how much a man gets to missing vegetables when he’s on the road.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” she said.

“I think I’m going to take a walk,” he said. “I’ll check in on Chancy and see if there’s any news in town.”

“I’ll go with you,” Stone said. “I’m staying at the inn.”

“No,” Lorik said. “You need to stay and clean up this mess,” he said, pointing to the table. “It would be rude if we both left.”

Stone knew that Lorik wasn’t scolding him. In fact, Lorik was giving Vera and Stone a chance to be alone. The gesture wasn’t missed by the young fighter.

“You’re right,” he said. “Thanks.”

“Be careful,” Vera told him.

“I always am,” Lorik said.

He felt hollow as he walked along the path from his home into Hassell Point. He’d always come back to town and sought out Vera. They would spend the evening drinking and talking, before finally going back to her room. There were other wenches to be had, but that wasn’t the issue. He wondered briefly if it was simply that he didn’t care for change. He didn’t have strong romantic feelings for Vera, but he did feel jealous. He could share her body, but he resented sharing her heart. She had always been very interested in what he was doing or what he’d seen in the marshes and beyond. Now, she seemed interested only in Stone.

His feelings surprised him. He was alone now, not physically, but no one else really understood how he felt. Most of the people he knew were content, if not happy, with their lives. It was empowering to know why he felt so alone, but it was also frustrating. He really had no ambitions beyond being a teamster. He liked his work, but there was no lasting satisfaction in it. There was always another load to haul. He had plenty of coin, but growing wealthy didn’t appeal to him. He liked having nice things, but he didn’t crave them the way some people did. He needed to find something that fulfilled him, and while being with Vera wasn’t ultimately fulfilling, it had always been sweet enough to distract him.

He was welcomed warmly when he reached Chancy’s Inn. He declined the offer of food and settled instead for a pint of mead and his customary spot along the far wall of the common room. After Chancy had seen to his other customers, he settled in beside his friend.

“What news of the world, my friend?” Chancy said.

“Thuryk’s dead,” Lorik replied.

“Is that so? Did he finally sail that demon ship of his into the rocks?”

“No, I killed him.”

“You don’t say,” Chancy said in shock.

“He had taken over Pallsen. He sent his raiders out with the able-bodied men from the town. We didn’t have much choice.”

Lorik took his time telling the tale. He didn’t embellish the battle; in fact, he downplayed it. He wasn’t looking to impress his friend, but talking things out always helped him put his issues in perspective. Normally he would have done this with Vera, but Chancy was bound to hear of the fight, and he might be offended if Lorik didn’t tell him personally.

“That’s some story,” Chancy said. “I would have expected your young partner to do most of the killing, not you.”

“I would have preferred that myself,” said Lorik. “Things just happened fast, and all our planning was compromised.”

“I suppose that’s why your shirt’s been mended,” Chancy said. “You didn’t mention getting hurt.”

“It was just a scratch,” Lorik explained. “It’s mostly healed now.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Chancy said. “Better let me have a look.”

“Oh, you’re a healer now, are you?”

“I’ve some experience with it,” Chancy said.

“Vera can check on it, she’s got a gentler touch than you.”

“Not any more. She’s retired, but I guess you know that. It was quite a shock to see your young partner moving her out of the Boggy Peat.”

“That was her decision, not mine.”

“So, it’s Stone she’s taken with? I thought perhaps she had come to her senses and settled for you.”

“Very funny,” Lorik said.

“It is if you drink enough mead,” the innkeeper said, laughing.

Chapter 14

It was late when Lorik made it home. Stone had shown up at Chancy’s Inn, but had gone to his room shortly afterward. The house was dark and quiet when he arrived. The night was warm, and Vera had left the windows open so that at least there was a slight breeze blowing through. He tried to be quiet, but it was difficult in the dark. The truth was, he’d enjoyed a little too much mead and his balance was a bit off. He stumbled once and cursed under his breath, but he made it to his room without hurting himself. He fell asleep almost at once, without bothering to undress.

He woke up the next morning when he felt someone tugging at his shirt. The sun was bright, and although he wanted to go back to sleep, he knew he couldn’t now that he’d been disturbed.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his eyes struggling to focus.

“We need to get this shirt off,” Vera said.

“Well, I won’t argue,” he said, “but what will Stone think?”

“I want to look at your wound, you old toad. Don’t get excited.”

“It’s hard not to, you’re a winsome woman.”

“Are you still drunk?” she asked.

“Maybe,” he said with a smirk.

She settled for pulling the shirt up, since he wasn’t being helpful. The bandage was discolored, and, as she expected, it was stuck to the wound. The poultice and dried blood had adhered to the bandage, and if she tried to remove it, the bandage would rip open the wound all over again, maybe even making it worse.

“I’m going to have to soak this bandage,” she said sternly. “Try not to move.”

She poured water from a clay pitcher into a large bowl and then soaked her rag in it. Then she dribbled the water onto the bandage. It took nearly an hour, but she was able to get the bandage off and wash away the remnants of the poultice.

“It doesn’t look too bad,” she said. “But it’s going to leave a nasty scar.”

“I can live with a scar,” he said, his head starting to hurt.

“I know you can,” she said kindly. “How about something to eat?”

“That would be good,” he said.

“All right, sit up and let me rewrap this wound, then I’ll fix us something to eat.”

After eating, Lorik went out to check on his horses. He had another job lined up and would normally have seen about leaving, but he wanted to give his horses a rest. He was planning on taking all four Shire horses so that they could pick up the rice they had left at Pallsen. He figured a couple of days’ rest would be plenty, plus it would give Stone some time with Vera. When they got back he expected her to be ready to push north. It would give them time to sort out their feelings.

“You leaving again soon?” Vera asked. She had joined him at the corral after cleaning the dishes.

“In a couple of days,” he told her.

“I didn’t used to have to pry that kind of information out of you,” she said.

“Things change.”

“Have I done something?” she asked.

“No, but things are different now.”

“Different how? Because I’m not working at the Boggy Peat? The reason I chose to stay here was so that things wouldn’t change. I still want to be your friend, Lorik. Is that too much to ask?”

“No, I’m not trying to punish you. I was just giving you and Stone some space.”

“I like Liam,” she said. “But you’re my friend. You’ll always be my friend. I don’t want that to change.”

“Neither do I, but you’re leaving, remember. You’ve found someone to share your life with, the last thing you need is a contrary old friend hanging around.”

“I don’t think Liam sees it that way.”

“Perhaps not, but I do. I never knew how unfulfilling my life was, but you changed all that. You really shook things up when you decided to leave. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“So why haven’t you told me?”

“I’m telling you now,” he said.

“Why do men make everything so difficult?” she said in frustration. “Stop running away from me. Perhaps you can just let our friendship die, but I can’t.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I want to talk to you. I need to talk to you. I don’t have anyone else.”