The Awakening (The Stones of Revenge) (3 page)

He leaned against the stone and closed his eyes, feeling the coolness of the shade and the warmth slowly burn away. Landon turned his gaze upon the two horses getting their fill from the stream. Abaccus had already decided to lie down while Aquila frolicked in the bit of water which existed.
Landon wished he could live at Bodam. He imagined its great towers and impressive walls rebuilt, his parents alive ruling the county as Duke and Duchess, and he, a lowly Marquis, learning the traits of a Defender of the Realm. Little else stirred his heart more. In an instant, Mordecai bitterly injected his words into the midst of Landon’s thoughts destroying his fantasy.

“I think we’ve had enough of a rest.
”

So much for an improved mood
.

“Couldn’t it last just a bit longer?”

“I am itching to get what we need and return to the farm.”

“But we’ve ridden the horse quite hard already this morning.”

“Landon, I do not want to be away from the farm any longer than needs be.”

“Then this needs be. Come on, uncle. You wouldn’t want the horses tiring out on the way home and we having to walk would you?”

He scratched his scraggly beard. “Nay, you stay if you want. I will ride on.”

Reluctantly Landon
pulled himself off of the ground and whistled Aquila over to him. She came eagerly at a trot and Landon easily mounted her saddle. Mordecai whistled, but Abaccus remained where he was. Mordecai whistled again but still no movement. Exasperation finally set in as Mordecai trudged over to the stubborn horse.

“Now you listen to me you over grown flea bag! You get yourself up this instant or there will be no more apples in your oats.” As if understanding the threat, Abaccus slowly began to rise to his feet. Mordecai mounted him
with a huff, and together he and Landon continued on their way towards Camsbury.

As the road carried them ever away from the ruins, Landon couldn’t help but to continually glance back to imagine what the ruins might have looked in its glory days with an attacking army camped on the hills five hundred yards away
and an army littered about its ramparts and towers. He could picture his father shouting orders to his Defenders and his mother organizing the women and children into safety. He had slowed behind Mordecai, who knew enough to leave Landon be and ride ahead, knowing he would catch up when he was ready. He took a few more minutes to envision the scene then turned away to catch Mordecai. After an hour’s worth of riding, the ruins were barely visible on the horizon. Landon slowed to a trot as he poured his last gaze over the landscape. The old castle faded into the distance, and Landon thought that for a brief moment he saw a red flag flying off one of the turrets and heard a trumpet sounding the alarm of battle.

He returned his attention to the road ahead to see the faint outline of a walled city in the distance. From the midst of the city, Landon could make out the tall spike from the cathedral that stood in the center of Camsbury. Distantly a bell was ringing signaling the changing of the hour.

Clang

Clang

Clang

Clang

Clang

Clang

Clang

Clang

Clang

Nine times the bell tolled and nine times Landon heard it fade as the wind brought the slightest whisper to his ears. He spurred Aquila on to catch up with Mordecai. Within the hour, they would be within the walls of Camsbury.

Chapter Three

Lessons of Inheritance

As the two men entered the city gates of Camsbury, their attention turned to the commotion among the people. Men and women hustled about the streets carrying on from one important errand to the next. Some women huddled together with their children to gossip about the latest news from around the empire. Others bought from sellers, traded what they had for whatever they could get, then moved on to the next vendor. Men stood behind rough wooden tables and yelled to the passersby to entice them to buy from their stand instead of the man across the road.

“Fresh meat! I cut ‘em, you eat ‘em!”
one merchant said.

“Fresh fruit picked straight from the trees! Get ‘em two for the price of one!” the seller across from him barked.

“You there! Come on over and look at my assortment of rare valuables! They come from very distant lands and contain special powers!” a strange looking merchant said. He had wild hair and torn, dirty clothes. He leaned close to Landon as he and Mordecai passed by.

These were not the people to buy from. Any of the sellers in the town marketplace could always be counted on to do one thing, exploit the consumer. To get anything at a reasonable price, Landon and Mordecai had to head closer to the town’s center where the shop own
ers lived and sold their goods.

The town of Camsbury was shaped more or less like a square inlaid with circles of houses. Toward the outside lived the poorer individuals. Dilapidated houses set in an ordered arc, hung together by a few strands of straw stood against the city walls. These were situated adjacent to the street vendors. This part of town was known for it corrupt and wicked ways. A couple rows of houses inward lay the town center shaped very much like a pear. At the south end, the end from which Landon and his uncle rode, was the larger end. Four large, old, wooden buildings lay stretched out in an arc. The two in the center were bigger than the others and had dirty, black windows surrounding the top. They each had two large doors which swung outward inviting visitors into a cavernous shop inside. These were Godfrey’s blacksmith shop and the silversmith’s shop. On the outside of them lay two shorter buildings with one door and one window each. The doors were closed. These shops belonged to the butcher and Archer who sold the good Landon and Mordecai needed. Across a wide street on the opposite end of the center contained one small building with a small wooden door, the Apothecary’s shop and another long building bustling with people. This was Rowan’s Tavern. Situated just behind the town square to the northwest sat the monstrous cathedral which cast its enormous shadow on numerous abandoned buildings to the east
.

As Landon and Mordecai entered the town center, they turned their horses left and headed towards the first building which was Archer’s. Landon did not stop when Mordecai did. He instead continued forward towards the third building in the middle of the row where Godfrey’s shop lay. As Mordecai dismounted and flipped the reins around the post, he looked bac
k as Landon carried on his way. He could see Godfrey’s wooden sign hanging over his door covered in dust with the word
blacksmith
and a symbol of an anvil. He stood in disbelief at the blatant disobedience from his nephew. He started to call out then stopped himself. He would deal with it later.

As Landon approached Godfrey’s he saw the shop in its state is disrepair. The building was very old. The south side of its roof had a thatched spot where a hole had been repaired years ago, and on the west side, a new hole was forming. The shop had two large doors in the front that opened up revealing a wide array of anvils, kilns, and an assortment of weaponry hanging all around. Aside from the windows near the roof, the sides of the shop had one window each, which were covered in dust and slightly blackened from the smoke. Landon also noticed a few guards roaming the town center. He felt an uneasiness begin to creep up in his stomach.  He stopped Aquila and dismounted her.  Finding a post, he flung the reins around it, and was about to enter the
doors when a voice stopped him.

“I wouldn’t go that way. He’s not in right no
w.” Landon turned at the sound.

“And where might he be?”

“If it was your place to know, you would not need me to tell you,” the voice retorted.

Landon strode towards the man he had been speaking with. He was a head taller than Landon, and his hair was speckled with the gray that comes from years of living. His brown tunic was strapped tightly about him allowing his muscles to bulge out from underneath. A sword was sheathed and hung at the man’s waist. The lines on the man’s face and the dark blue eyes that stared at Landon indicated more under the surface that only needed a reason
to explode at any man’s peril.

Landon stopped in front of the man, his nose inches away from his chin. For a moment, it seemed as if the entire town was frozen in suspense at who might make the first move. They received their answer when the tall man raised his right hand to the sky. As he did so, Landon stepped back waiting for the inevitable. The man’s arm came down around Landon’s shoulder and slapped him square on the back. Landon recoiled from the shock of the man’s bur
ly hand.  The huge man laughed.

“It is good to see you young one!” Godfrey
exclaimed.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Landon
said with a smile on his face. “Octavius broke his harness again.”

“Then you will not be staying
.”

“N
ay, though, he won’t be needing me at the moment.”

“I am glad to hear it. Would you like to come in and have a seat? I was just returning from buying some shoes for my horse. You never know when you might have use of them.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Landon said with a wide smile stretched across his face.

Godfrey was one of the few men still living in Camsbury who old enough to remember how the Realm had existed before the Treaty of the Lords.  He was an odd old man who lived alone and made sure to keep it that way. He always kept to himself and depended upon selling armor and weapons to soldiers, knights, and anyone who might have a need for defense. Every year the harvest festival came to town and Godfrey set up shop. He never attempted to coerce people to enter his tent nor ever appeared in front of it. He always sat quietly inside sipping his tea, waiting for people to come to him;
that was how he and Landon met.

When Landon was ten years old, he and Mordecai went to the festival to sell some of their crops from that year’s harvest. Mordecai got lost in a conversation, and Landon decided to sneak away to visit the other tents. He knew Mordecai wouldn’t be happy if he got caught, but the excitement of discovery was more appealing at the time. Landon walked past every vendor who yelled or shook goods in his face until finally he came upon a tent with no one in front. The sign at the front read: Godfrey’s Weaponry. It was just enough t
o inspire the boy’s curiosity.

He entered the tent and saw a man sitting at a table drinking from a cup. The tent was full of differing weapons of every shape and size. Along the left side of the tent stood an array of swords; some had curved blades, others had massive straight blades. Some were made of rare and precious metals while still others were made of simple iron and bronze. A collection of axes stood along the right side of the tent. Landon stared curiously at many that held one blade and some that held two. The blades varied from rounded to triangular to square. There was one in particular that caught Landon’s eye. It was about two feet long. At the base was a soft grip for the wielder and beneath it a long spike. Near the top two triangular blades spanned out from the long shaft in the midst of the weapon. In the soft candle light both blades glinted a deep sapphire color as if the blades were made out of the gem themselves. The metal itself shone brightly as though it were made from pure gold. At the back of the tent sat a long wooden table empty except for the man and his cup. Immediately Godfrey saw the boy and beckoned him to come closer. Landon, not sure what to do, stood frozen in place. Godfrey again called the boy over to him and as
ked, “What’s your name?” Landon told him trying to sound braver than he really felt.

“Interesting,” was all the older man said when Mordecai burst into the tent, his eyes flaming with anger.

“Godfrey! How dare you speak with my nephew without my permission! He has work to do!” Mordecai blared.

“My apologies, sir,” came the reply in a quiet voice.

“But uncle, he didn’t–”

“Enough! Landon you stay away from this crazy old man, you hear me?”

“Yes sir,” Landon said sheepishly. That was the first and last time Landon had ever seen his uncle that upset. Since that day, as Landon grew older, Mordecai was more willing to allow Landon the freedom to visit Godfrey. He tended to visit Godfrey’s shop more often than he, and even Mordecai, realized.

The two men walked back towards the dusty building. Godfrey was the first to enter. As he did, he set down his horseshoes and lit up a few candles near the doorway. He continued into the darkened room lighting up candle after candle as he went bringing a warm glow into the dark shop of metal. Finally, he returned, shoved some dust-covered books off of a chair and bade Landon sit down.

Landon gladly obliged, and Godfrey headed towards a large hearth. Set inside was a fire burning steadily upon which rested a large iron kettle. “Care for some tea?” Godfrey
said.

Landon never liked the tea Godfrey always offered him, but he always accepted to placate the older gentleman.
“I would indeed.”

The old man grabbed two iron cylinders, poured the steaming liquid into them, and handed one to Landon. “It’s all I have,” apologized the old man. “I do not have many nice thin
gs these days.”

“It’s quite alright,” Landon reassured him. He took a sip from the warm cylinder and flinched at the heat and strength of the tea. Godfrey took a seat across from where Landon was sitting. “I suppose you’ve come to hear a story?” he inquired. Landon nodded. Though Godfrey was known for his talents at the smith, he was also known to recount tales of long ago that had been handed down from generation to generation.

“Well, it has been a while since anyone has come calling for tall tales. What would you like to hear . . . A story of true love? No, no, I think you are looking for a more epic story . . . how about one involving great battles and great deeds . . . come to think of it, I believe I have told you all of the great war stories I know. Would you like to hear them again?”

“Well, I was actually hoping for new stories; if you don’t mind.”

“Hmm . . .” he murmured as he searched the recesses of his memory. He kept his gaze upon the glowing embers beneath the tea trying desperately to remember a grand tale. Staring at the fire, his eyes lit up. “I cannot believe it had not occurred to me earlier! Speaking of great deeds, I do think I have one that may interest you. I suppose you are old enough now.” He paused for effect.  “How much do you remember about your father?”

“My father?” Landon
said in a surprised voice. “Nothing really. Uncle hasn’t been too keen on sharing.”

“Hmm . . .” was the reply from Godfrey as he took a long sip of his tea. He began slowly, pausing after every few words to give Landon time to absorb his words. “Suppose I told you he was a great man who accomplished a great deed. Would that interest you?”

Landon stared blankly back at Godfrey. His head was swirling with a torrent of questions
.
How did he know my father? Who was my father? What great deed
?
Then, his dream from the previous night exploded into his mind. Could all that I saw have really been a vision into the past? He decided he would wait to hear Godfrey’s tale before he shared his dream.

“I would be lying if I
said it didn’t,” Landon said trying to sound calm and not betray the wave of emotions that was building up inside him.

“As you know, before his death, your father worked the farm that now belongs to Mordecai. One day, while he was toiling away at plowing his fields, your father heard a commotion out on the road. Men were shouting and horses were neighing. Your father stopped his work to investigate the noise; his curiosity always was strong. He ventured towards the road to see four men on horses galloping at a lightning fast pace towards the house. They came upon the short, stone fence, which encircles your farm, and each in turn tried to jump it. The first three cleared it with little effort; however the fourth tripped on a loose stone and broke its leg. Jediael, seeing they were
in trouble, offered assistance.

“The men were reluctant at first to allow a stranger into their business. Eventually they decided that they could go no further with a lame horse. Your father then brought the men into the house and offered them shelter and food for the night. While at dinner Jediael asked why they were riding so hard and to where they were going. ‘We are on an important mission for the Sovereign,’ they said. ‘We cannot tell our mission to anyone.’ Appeased, your father did not inquire further. After dinner, Jediael showed them to their room
s and bade them a good evening.

“Later that night, he awoke to hear them talking to each other. Your hut being very small it was easy to hear their conversation. They were deciding what to do about the horse.