Chapter Two
Chapter Two
The silence surrounded Marl as he picked up another fallen chair and righted it. Grabbing the empty tankards from the table beside it, he headed back to his bar. Just barely, at the edge of his vision, Marl caught sight of a figure by the door, cloaked and standing in the shadows. He tried not to show his fright. The stranger had made no noise entering.
“We’re closed,” he called over his shoulder.
“Are you sure?”
The figure stepped forward, but Marl didn’t need to see under the hood to know who it was. He recognized the voice. An avalanche of thoughts filled his mind while his body eased behind the bar and continued tidying up.
“Why are you here? You never saw fit to visit before now.” He picked up a cloth and wiped it across the top of the wooden bar, soaking up the spills and mug-sized circles left on the worn, unvarnished surface.
“It’s back, Marl.”
Finally, he looked up at her, sitting on the nearest chair as he did.
“Are you sure?”
The hood nodded, and it came another step toward him, the cloak flowing to the side for a second to reveal the armor and sword underneath.
Exhaustion hit Marl, making his legs shake. His body had held up for the last three years, carrying him through the routine as he did the job of two alone, but this was too much.
How could it be back?
Realizing he still clutched the cloth, he put it down on the nearby table and sighed. Would he not be allowed to run his tavern in peace?
“You’d best get us both a drink and tell me how you know.”
She didn’t move until she pushed her hood back and looked at him. “I’ve not come alone,” his sister-in-law explained.
He nodded, resigned. Nothing else she said could make things worse.
As she turned to open the door and call out, there was a jolt, a deep pain in his chest, the sight of her so familiar.
Opening his mouth, he intended to tell her to get out. That he didn’t care or want her there, but the moment passed, and the words never came.
A person, more boy than man, followed her back inside, each of them equally garbed in cloaks, the clank of his metal armor told a tale.
Marl didn’t know her friend. His limbs were calm, but his face told all Marl needed to know. There was fear in his eyes.
It truly was back.
The darkest point in Marl’s life had started at a time when he still had a wife and kid, when his arms were strong and legs unyielding, when he hadn’t known what lay ahead. It had been for glory and riches that he had left with his sister-in-law and the others. Marl hadn’t known he had all the wealth in the world just beneath the golden ringlets of hair on the little girl that had said, “I’ll miss you, Daddy.”
No bar towel could wipe away that memory. No amount of drink, either.
The father inside him taking over, he got to his feet again. They’d need food and drink.
By the time he’d put together a tray of bread, cheese, and ale, they were sitting by the fire. His sister-in-law had placed several fresh logs on and stoked it back to life—something he hadn’t expected Elora to know how to do. Three years ago, she’d had servants to do that for her.
“Right. Start from the beginning,” Marl said, as he put everything down in front of them. “And don’t leave anything out.”
“Jenson here saw it first,” she said, pointing to the kid, a skinny boy dressed in a loose-fitting set of chainmail that was scuffed and rusted in places. He tried to lift his chin, to look brave and confident, but all it served to do was draw attention to the thin goatee that didn’t suit someone so young.
Marl gave him a nod, anyway, trying to encourage him to begin his tale.
“I was up Antwick way,” he said, his voice quivering only a little, “watching my uncle’s sheep. Something I do when one of his shepherds is sick. I made a campfire like normal, got myself all cozy, the sheep settled by the east wall.”
“Let me guess. You had a bit of old Rupert’s home-brew to help keep you warm?” Marl said, interrupting.
The kid colored but nodded. “Only the one, mind you. I would have had more, but to be honest with you, I’d been up late a few nights, and I slept more than I drank.”
Marl nodded, wondering when he was going to get to the point. No part of him doubted this kid had seen it. The fear in his eyes and the way his hands shook as he clutched his mug of ale said enough, but he knew others would want to ignore him. They’d pretend he saw things while drunk. People liked to act like nothing wrong was going to happen.
For the land he loved, a good deal of bad was going to happen.
Marl had done his bit, and it had cost him, but he would face it all over again, if only to get a good night’s sleep one last time.