Tales of a Horse Thief, Part 5c

Tales of a Horse Thief, Part 5c

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Puffing away on the pipe he stepped out onto the crowded porch and watched as the caravan folk received orders from Lord Gainsly. Loden recognized a few folks including a couple men from the forester’s village where he had stopped to give warning about the bandit attack. He also noted Mr. Dahlah’s wagon. It seemed that most of the surviving members of the caravan would be lodging at the roadhouse while a wagon with the worst of the wounded was heading to the Temple of Mercy and his lordship was going to seek out the marshal. A large fellow with a heavy bow and large, fancy looking, sword seemed to be with the lord, but Loden did not recognize him. It appeared that a few of the bandits had been captured as well, most appeared to be wounded.

Loden did not really feel like getting bogged down talking with the caravan folk but did wonder if Ander was amongst the survivors. He decided to head over to Crimlok’s Pub and let the general hub-bub settle here. He could find out what happened with the bandits and the caravan later.

As he walked over to the pub a light rain started falling.

 

 

Loden had found a corner table at Crimlok’s and had spent most of the evening sitting quietly, drinking, smoking and watching the other patrons. Most of the locals were talking about the caravan and the bandit attack, they speculated as to whether Wol the Fox was behind the attack or what such a bandit group might do if they turned their attention to a village like Cof.

A handful of Maldorn soldiers, three men and two women, showed up shortly after dark. The group of them took a centre table and at least one of them spoke enough Andalee to order drinks, they were conspicuous in their armour and loud as they talked. It was a long while before the locals settled back into their own conversations; it was obvious the soldiers made them uncomfortable.

The pub remained busy late into the night, though a number of the locals had retired. The group of Maldorn soldiers had become louder, they were giving the young woman who served them a hard time and laughing a lot. More than a few of the locals were starting to resent the soldiers presence and their boisterous behaviour. Loden finished his drink, his sixth since arriving, he was debating whether to get another one or to head back to his room at the roadhouse.

A young man wearing a uniform and long coat walked in, said something to the soldiers, eyed the other patrons and then turned and left. The soldiers were quick to get up, rushed to finish their drinks and soon left as well. The room felt much larger and the mood lighter, absent their presence.

A while later Loden decided to head out, not sure if he was going to return to the roadhouse yet or not, but when the locals started expressing their dissatisfaction over the Maldorn soldiers he decided he did not want to sit around listening to them complain.

It had stopped raining and the cloud cover had dissipated enough that the moons would briefly shine through. The main street heading along the commons had a modest amount of traffic despite the hour and many of the dwellings still had lamps or candles burning. Bright lanterns had been lit aboard the airship, the tower windows glowed with dim lantern light and a few torches were burning down near the door. Cof had the feel of a much larger town, typically by this hour it would have been dark and mostly quiet.

There was a few shouted commands from aboard the airship and it appeared as though they were preparing to depart. As Loden came closer to the marshal’s tower he noted a number of people out front, namely; Marshal Thoddem, Lord Gainsly, Mr Dahlah and others. There was a handful of people approaching the tower from the commons, including the foresters he had spotted earlier and the big fellow Loden had thought might have been Gainsly’s guard.

An unnatural wind gusted, lifting and spinning debris and dirt into the air, causing the torches to gutter. The Maldorn sky-ship left the tower, turning to a northerly heading. Most of the caravan folk just turned their backs to the wind and shielded their faces. The locals made loud exclamations, including a few curses and stared up at the departing ship. Loden also stopped and turned to watch the ship, his eyes teared up from the dust and grit. In short order the airship had receded until all that could be made out was the distant glow of the ship’s lanterns. Loden was impressed by the speed of its departure.

Loden continue on his way, giving the marshal’s tower a wide berth, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

Marshal Thoddem was apologizing to Lord Gainsly and the others, “… a difference of opinion over accepting an offer from Maldorn to put in a supply station here for their air force.”

Lord Gainsly commented, “I too have had to deal with their officer’s expectations at times, twice over the years I have been forced to resupply them from the caravan. Many back home do not think we should even have the air force out here, operating so far from home.”

One of the foresters called out, “Look ! They seem to be coming back this way again.”

Loden stopped and turned, sure enough the light from the ship seemed to be approaching, the winds settled and then stirred, building up from the north. The light from the ship disappeared as the onboard lamps were snuffed or shuttered.

The guy with the big sword and the two foresters were just the other side of the street from Loden, just south of the tower. The big guy started to string his bow and said to the others, “This looks like trouble.”

Loden glanced back to the sky-ship, or where it had last been, but could not see it, the wind rose to a gale and the sky above burst with crackling red light and energy. The reddish alchemical bolts hissed through the air, three shots each fired a moment apart. They moved faster than crossbow bolts, the first shot flew past the tower, over the commons and into the south part of the village. The second and third shots caught the edge of the tower, stone cracked with explosive force. A fourth shot, fired just as the ship was passing over them, slammed into the centre of the tower. Fragments of stone flew in all directions, as few small chunks fell to the ground.

People shouted and screamed, Loden saw one of the marshal’s men go down, Thoddem and Mr Dahlah started to run from the tower, a chunk of stone hit Lord Gainsly and he fell as well. Loden turned and started running for the commons. One of the foresters was rolling on the ground, the other one moving towards his fallen kin. The big guy was turning in place, tracking the airship with his bow drawn and just as Loden came up to him the man released the arrow and more crackling shots hissed from the back end of the airship.

Loden leapt and tackled the big guy as a bright hissing bolt passed by, burning pain erupted across his shoulder and along his back, the two of them went down together. More kryl shots flew overhead, at least a couple of them hit the tower, stone cracked and flew.

Waves of pain washed over Loden, something moved under him and he rolled over onto his back, sound and vision retreated, he gasped in pain. Well that was dumb, he thought to himself as consciousness slipped away.

 

 

Loden woke to the sound of singing, many voices raised in praise to love and mercy. He lay on his stomach in a narrow bed. To his left, the direction he was facing, another man lay in a similar bed and another beyond him. Dim morning light, through narrow windows, provided the only illumination. A pungent herbal smell nearly hid the odour of sweat, somewhere from the other end of the hall someone moaned in quiet discomfort. Loden’s shoulder was painful and the skin was tight across his upper back. Likely best not to move.

At least he was still alive. Seemingly in a hospice of the Goddess of Mercy. The hymn ended on a long, high note. Bird song could clearly be heard from around the temple grounds. A bell sounded once, after a while he heard a nearby door open, then the sounds of people moving through the room. The priestesses went from bed to bed, quietly greeted the patients if they were awake and tended to their wounds. Soon quiet conversation filled the hall with the occasional groan of pain or even a small laugh now and then.

Eventually one of the priestesses came to Loden, she was pretty with pale skin, dark hair and a shapely figure, “Ah, good, you are awake.” She smiled down at him.

Loden tried to sit up but the priestess gently shushed him and told him not to move. She inspected his wounds, poked at the shoulder a bit and made a couple of comments to someone Loden could not see. Then she smiled at him, “I’m going to put some cream on your burn. Goddess be praised, the healing we did last night has worked very well, you must be in her favour.”

Loden cleared his throat, though when he spoke it came out croaky, “Thank you. Do you know what happened last night?”

Still smiling she asked, “What do you remember from the last night?”

“The Maldorn shy-ship attacked the marshal’s tower. A lot of people were wounded, maybe killed.”

The smile faded a bit, a younger woman came up to her and passed over a jar and some clean bandages, she told the initiate to get some water for the patient then returned her attention to Loden, “This might be a bit painful, especially the shoulder.”

“Alright.”

His shoulder was tender, after the salve had been applied the priestess lay some of the clean squares of bandage over his wounds and then holding her hands above the shoulder and burnt section of back she chanted quietly under her breath. Loden felt a coolness spread over his wounded flesh and the discomfort faded.

“Wow.” He said.

“You felt that did you ? Good. We should have you on your feet or at least sitting up later this morning or early afternoon. Nea will be by in a moment with water and a bit of food. Try not to move around too much.”

Loden watched her walk over to the next bed, she started to tend the patient there, whom he did not recognize. Nea returned and helped him to eat and drink and later another initiate came along to help him deal with a bed pan and relieving himself. By the time it was all done Loden felt like he had engaged in a full days activity and faded into sleep once more.

 

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