The Echidna's Scale (Alchemy's Apprentice) (32 page)

Chapter 22
– Arima’s Wilderness

Marco awoke the next morning, and sat up sleepily.  The thick curtains over the window blocked out the sun’s rays with great effect, so that he could not tell what time it was.

“You’re not thinking of getting up already, are you?” Pesino’s voice asked with tragic resignation from the far side of the mattress.

Marco pulled his pillow upward, then swung it in an arc so that it landed soundly on the girl’s posterior, raising a shriek from her, and then prompting her to sit up and look at him with a mock glare.

“If you want to have breakfast, we need to get out of bed,” Marco told her as he jumped out of the bed to move out of range of her potential retaliation.

“I’m ready for breakfast.  You still owe me a fish meal.  The palace didn’t serve fish last night, and you promised I was going to get some,” Pesino rose quickly from the bed and darted into the bathroom, then pulled the door closed as she beat Marco to the facilities.

He grumbled momentarily, then pulled on his wrinkled and faded travel clothes, and waited for the door to open.  He walked over to the window and spread the curtains wide, so that rays of light slanted into the room, their low angle showing Marco that he hadn’t slept in too terribly late.

He had a whole day ahead of him.  He had told the palace that his party would not be going to hunt the Echidna for another day.  There had been universal astonishment at the story of the quest he was pursuing, and nearly universal agreement that the quest would end quickly, with his death at the hands of the monster.

Marco intended to go along the water front to secure a ride over the water to Arima.  There had to be a boat captain somewhere who was planning to sail in that direction, he was sure, so it was only a matter of negotiating a price for four passengers to ride one way.

He heard the sound of water running in the bathroom, as Pesino began to fill another bath of hot water.  With a sigh, knowing that she would be occupied in the tub for some time, Marco left his room and went downstairs to gather information.

“My lord,” a new desk clerk greeted him.  “How may we be of service?”

“I wish to go speak to ship captains about finding one that will sail to Arima.  Do you know where I should start?” Marco asked.

Five minutes later, a flurry of references to different staff members brought one of the stable boys in, who explained that his uncle worked on a fishing ship.  Marco was directed to a slip along the water front, and told to ask for Kizmo’s ship.  He then asked to have a seafood breakfast prepared for when he returned, and left the inn.

Ten minutes later he stood along the blustery water front and began talking to Kizmo, the owner of a ship that had just come in with the morning’s catch, and they reached an agreement for a trip to Arima the following morning.

And twenty minutes later he carried a tray of fried fish and other foods into the bathroom and set it down next to the tub where Pesino was still soaking, as Gawail floated languidly in the air just above the steaming hot water.

“Something smells delicious,” Pesino said as she lay back, her eyes closed.  “Are you proving yourself to be the best husband in the world?”

“Just hold your mouth open,” Marco told her, and he began to feed her bite by bite for the next several minutes.

“You’ll leave this bath full of hot water for me, won’t you?” Gawail asked as Pesino eventually stepped from the tub and took the towel Marco handed her.

Minutes later they were down the hall, knocking at their friends’ door.

“They are in love with one another to a ridiculous degree,” Pesino whispered to Marco as they entered the room and observed their friends.

“You can see it?” he asked, and she nodded an affirmation.  “I wish I could have what they do,” she spoke in a wistful tone.

“You deserve to; I know you will someday,” Marco said reassuringly.

That day they returned to the palace for a luxurious and indulgent visit.  The ladies went to have massages while Marco and Cassius went to the armory and practiced sword work and archery.  Marco surprised their hosts when he stopped at the palace chapel on the way back to join the others and stopped to say his prayers of thanks for the safe journey completed to reach Canalport, and to ask for future blessings on their quest.

They ate dinner with the Grand Duke and his closest circle of friends that night, then returned to their inn for their last night of luxury.

“How did you enjoy the day at the palace?” Marco asked Pesino as they undressed and climbed into the expansive bed.

“It wasn’t very fun,” Pesino said after a moment of contemplation.  “I could tell that too many of the people there are not concerned at all about anyone else.  I could see how self-centered they were.  I never knew some people were so shallow.”

“Was everyone like that?” Marco asked.

“No, not everyone,” she admitted.   “And outside the palace it was better too.”

The ship's captain had advised Marco to arm himself with everything possible, and the head armsman at the palace armory had happily obliged by offering extra arrows and throwing knives for all members of the group.  When they boarded the ship before dawn the next morning, they each wore a bandolier of knives, as well as the swords Cassius and Marco wore, and the bow and quiver Marco added.

“The captain’s not a bad man.  He cares for his crew,” Pesino observed.  She was astonished by her new ability, and she wanted to share her discoveries with Marco as frequently as possible. 

The journey across the choppy waters of the channel took several hours, slowed by the casting of the nets occasionally, but at last they came in sight of a bleak landscape, and the captain ordered a small craft to deliver them to shore.

"There's no village," Marco protested.

"You're better off without other folks around," the captain sniffed.  "The people of Arima aren't much to deal with.  You just hit the shore and go wherever you're going," he advised.

They were rowed to shore, and walked inland from the sandy dunes, crossing a windy, treeless plain.

"How will we find a ship to take us back to the mainland?" Cassius asked.

"We'll figure that out when the time comes," Marco replied.

By m
id-afternoon, as they left the oceanside behind, they found the ground grew snow covered, and a few scattered cottages were evident on the landscape.  Marco urged them to move on, and they passed the opportunity to stop and warm themselves by the fireplaces whose chimneys released steady columns of smoke.

When night fell, they entered the ruins of an abandoned wooden barn, which provided shelter from the wind and the snow.

“Does the plumbing here provide hot water for a bath?” Kate asked with longing in her voice.

They posted guards to mount a watch throughout the cold night, and the three who were not on guard duty slept huddled together in the same sets of blankets, sharing body warmth.

The next night they were close to a small cluster of homes when night fell, the closest thing to a village the travelers had seen in the empty lands of Arima.  All four of them mutually agreed to walk among the buildings to see if there was a place to stop and eat a meal of warm food.

Most of the buildings were clearly small homes, build with stout walls and small windows and doors.  “These people seem prepared for the worst,” Marco observed.

One building at the north end of the settlement seemed to be larger than the others, and a dim square of light fell out of a large window and lit the trampled snow in front of the doorway.

“Tell me what you sense,” Marco whispered to Pesino as they approached the entrance.  Marco ungloved his right hand, prepared to take action with it if needed, though he didn’t know what action he would take, in the event of a hostile reaction by the occupants of the public space.

He opened the door and stepped across the threshold, leading the others into the building.  As he became visible to the occupants inside, there was a flurry of motion, as men rose out of their seats and grabbed weapons that were laid on the table or floor near their spots.

Panicked, Marco reacted instinctively, and his hand flared into a bright beacon instantly, not so bright as it had been when it had blinded Pesino, but bright enough to make the men all shout in fear and cover their eyes.

“We mean you no harm!” Pesino shouted as she stood next to Marco just inside the doorway.  “We don’t want to fight!” she shouted.  “Put your weapons down,” she added a third effort.  “They’re scared Marco, not angry,” she spoke softly to her putative husband.

Marco forced his hand’s light to diminish, and stood expectantly.  There were more than a dozen men in the room; the building was just a single room, with a fireplace at one end, and a stock of kegs and barrels along another wall gave evidence that they were in a tavern that had its supply of ale stocked for the winter.

“Who are you?  What was that light?” a single voice called from the area where the bar and the single lantern were placed.

“We’re travelers heading north, and we stopped in to see if there’s any warm food available,” Marco answered.  “We don’t intend any harm to any of you or anyone in this village.”

“You don’t sound like you’re from Arima,” another voice said.  Marco turned to see the man who was speaking, one who had a beard that was longer and shaggier than any of the others in the room.  “Who in the world ever heard of a traveler come from the outside land to travel north in Arima, in the winter time?” he asked.

“We’re on a quest,” Cassius spoke.  “We’re going to find and slay the
Echidna.”

There was a moment of silence, and then bedlam erupted in the room, as voices were raised in protest and disbelief.

“Quiet!” the barkeeper shouted finally, so loudly that he overcame the voices of the others, and silenced the various conversations.

“Come in,” he said to Marco and his friends.  “Even if you’re bringing women into the men’s bar, come in and tell us more about this impossible death wish you have.”

“You can’t kill the Echidna.  No fool even talks about that.  The best anyone can do is avoid the monster; and if we all thought we could get our families off this godforsaken land, we would so we could evade the creature too,” the man with the long beard said as Marco and the others moved to the end of the bar and stood there under considerable scrutiny by the others in the room.

“I was given a quest, by a spirit that I must obey,” Marco answered.  “I was told to acquire a scale from the
Echidna.  I’m not making this journey thinking that I’ll have to kill it – if I could get a scale without ever seeing the monster I would – but I expect we may have to confront it.”

“That spirit didn’t like you much, did it?” a man asked, making the room smirk with suppressed laughter, and breaking the tension.

“It may not be my best friend, but it has taken care of me in the past, and I’ve got good friends with me now who I know will help me,” Marco responded.

“They’re listening,” Pesino said softly.

“So is there a hot meal we can buy?” Marco asked, though his hopes were dim.  There was no smell of cooking food in the room, just the odors of ale and men.

“My wife has a big pot of mutton stew over the fire at our home,” one man said.  “You can come with me and we’ll fill you up.”

“Tuck, you go with them,” the man with the long beard told another man, a man who appeared to be the oldest in the room, with a beard and hair that were pure silver.  “Tell them your stories,” the younger man ordered.

The greybeard stood up.  “I’ll go with them, just to see such a pair of pretty gals for a few minutes longer than the rest of you!” he drew a round of laughter from the others.

The man who had offered food stood up as well, and just minutes after entering the tavern, the quartet of travelers left the building again to walk down the snowy way to one of the closed homesteads on the village.

“Mother!” the occupant of the home called loudly as he worked the door open.  “I’ve brought you guests – strangers – here for some of your stew.”

“What nonsense are you spouting?” a woman’s voice called from inside as the homeowner opened the door and entered a dim space beyond.

“Oh!” the wife’s voice expressed astonishment a second later as Pesino entered the room, followed by Marco and then the others.  “Who are these people?” she queried her husband.

As the man explained, Marco looked around the living space, which was a combination single-room cottage and also store room.  The walls were lined with goods that were kept indoors, and it was evident to Marco that the people of the land lived their lives under fear of being besieged by the Echidna; he didn’t need to ask Pesino to know that their hearts were full of fear.

They soon had wooden bowls of stew in their hands and ate the proffered meal gratefully, then settled in to sit on the floor and hear the brief tale of the old man who had joined them.

“My name is Tuck, and I am the oldest man of this village,” he began.   “My grandfather told me a tale when I was only a young boy, so the story must be from a time four or more generations in the past.