Servants and Followers (The Legends of Arria, Volume 2) Read online

  A rickety leaning city, Oaka thought to himself; he had noticed the additions that had been made to The Smiling Stallion inn and other buildings in his hometown over the centuries, but those looked much smoother compared to the ones in Coe Anji. In Coe Baba, people constructed with the intent to make something permanent, and make it fit in with the rest of the town’s facade, without making it look too new or too old. But the buildings in Coe Anji looked to be temporary construction solutions that had just turned permanent by accident, lashed and latched onto each other through faith and hope with a bit of rope and nails. And the buildings were so outnumbered by the expanse of tents pitched in and around the town that Coe Anji looked to be a temporary place, a market town made for merchants to exchange and barter goods, services, and money.

  Oaka could not imagine anybody living here. Basha, however, seemed to be taken in by the facade, fascinated by the muddled, yet jovial atmosphere of Coe Anji’s market streets. Down several alleyways, however, there were venues of vicious sport and soiled pleasure, sometimes one and the same, Oaka was half aware of as he turned his head and saw men, but very few women, coming in and out of the mouth of these alleyways, laughing, smiling, and joking about as they staggered.

  As they passed by a cart selling meats, Fato, perched on the pommel of Basha’s saddle again, seemed to smell something that attracted him, and he pushed himself off of the pommel as he spread his wings wide to start flapping. Basha had to let go of Talan’s reins for the moment, so that Fato would have space to move, and the bird flapped his way up above the young man’s head and soared off when he had wind underneath his wings. Fato snagged a piece of veal from the cart, but was startled when a strange little beast, covered in fur yet walking upright, snapped at him and tried to reach out with tiny fingers to snatch at his feathers.

  The peddler pulling the cart yelled at the falcon, and the two young men it returned to when it had dropped its piece of veal. Oaka had to go over and pay for the veal. As Oaka walked back to the others, Fato complained, “That monkey, I ought to…”

  “Fato, just be glad you got off with nothing more than a scratch,” Basha said.

  “You humans are related to monkeys!” Fato accused.

  “I would be glad to know that I was related to that wise fool of a beast, especially when he had the good sense to shoo you away!” Oaka said, as he mounted Joko. “I learn something new everyday. Now where do we go?”

  “We should look for an inn,” Basha said, turning his head around. “I smell…what is that smell in the air?”

  “Salt?” Oaka asked, smelling and tasting it too in the air.

  “The ocean, we’re near it,” Fato said, turning his head. “A couple of miles that way, the salty breeze is what you get when you’re close.”

  “The ocean.” Basha said wistfully, and then laughed. “We’re not in Coe Baba anymore!” He cried.

  “Definitely not,” Oaka said, and then pulled on Joko’s reins as they tried to ride through the crowd, but then the boys had to dismount and walk their horses.

  By studying some of the signposts hanging over buildings, Basha spotted the sign shaped like a duck, The Walking Duck Inn, a name no more unusual than some of the other inns they had heard about, The Baron’s Bed, The Potato Hovel, and Tau’s Drink Inn, from some of the guests that had stayed at The Smiling Stallion inn in the past. Still, Fato kept snickering about the name as they directed their horses to the stables at the back. The boys unloaded their packs and handed over the reins of Joko and Talan to stable boys, a little uncertain about leaving their horses with complete strangers, but they trusted that the inn was a good one. They still had their swords strapped on, of course.

  Fato alighted on Basha’s shoulder, and settled down, Basha cringing slightly as if the falcon’s talons might be sharp. Oaka shook his head, almost glad that the falcon seemed to be favoring Basha and staying away from him.

  As they head towards the front door of the inn, they realized that, apart from the noise of the crowd outside walking along the streets, there was a distinct reverberation coming from inside the inn. The front door opened as they approached, and suddenly another man was hurled out. The young men were barely able to leap back, out of the way of his falling glide, and straightened up again as the front door slammed shut. They watched as the man, who had plopped onto the ground and rolled up into a ball, got up onto his hands and knees and crawled, coughing fluidly and vomiting.

  “The pentacle of monkey balnor,” Fato muttered.

  Oaka ignored the raptor. “This does not seem to be a very good place to stay,” He said, turning towards Basha.

  “Let’s just see what it’s like inside,” Basha said, as if he too would like to leave. “At least it might be better, and we don’t know what it’s like at the other inns. For all we know, this could be the very best one.” He laughed hesitantly. “Come on,” He said, going to the front door slowly.

  Oaka sighed, and went after him, as the resonance that they had heard before became a clamor when they entered. The sounds were estranged into bellowing, screaming, thrashing, clapping, clanging, crashing, clinging, slapping, and snapping.

  The sounds shrank their ears, and their eyes widened at the scene, unable to focus on the panorama of chaos taking place in the inn’s common room. For the most part, it seemed the fighting took place between separate groups. Huddles of sparring combatants weaved about the room, dodging tables to pursue opponents in devious styles. Some fellows doggedly stayed in their seats, drinking ale even as beaten men were heaved onto their tables.

  Oaka gasped, unable to believe…suddenly, he was snatched by a man’s hand, and dragged off into the melee, as Basha ducked a dagger flung at him.

  “Basha!” Oaka called, as he was pulled tight into a hug, and the man started to dance with him, out into the middle of the floor.

  “Oh, we got it all...” The man sang drunkenly, as a glass of beer smashed behind him and Oaka managed to slip out of his embrace.

  “Excuse me,” Oaka said, trying to back up and find Basha again, but someone standing on top of a table poured beer all over him instead.

  “‘Oh, we got it all…’” Another group sang and clapped their hands, “‘Right here in Coe Anji!’” They laughed amongst themselves, as Oaka gasped, stunned at how soaking wet he was. He stank of beer.

  Oaka sighed and decided to leave instead of looking for Basha. Let him fend for himself, it was all his fault that they were here at all, so he headed towards the door. But then someone grabbed him and, before he could protest, started pummeling him against the back wall. Basha had a lot to answer for, Oaka thought to himself as he shielded away from the blows and tried to reach his sword.

  When Basha ducked the dagger, which thudded into the door behind him instead, Fato panicked and flogged Basha with his wings before the bird flew up into the rafters, remote from the repercussions. Basha straightened himself, and shook his head. “That bird is a menace,” He said, brushing away the only feather that had landed on him, and only then did he realize that Oaka had vanished.

  “Oaka!” Basha cried, pressing himself against the wall. There was no way he could find…he crept along the wall, scanning to see if there was any of sign of Oaka, or any nearby belligerents. He dived underneath a table.

  Basha had been just as worried as Oaka had been for the past day and a half, only he had tried to look forward to whatever lied ahead of them, instead of thinking about what had just past. Poor Sir Nickleby…Basha shuddered, and tried to stay strong, thinking that he would not lose Oaka now.

  From his vantage point, forced to breathe through his mouth instead of his nose, trying not to look down at whatever was on the floor, he strained to look up past boots and the occasional bare feet. As one man sagged against the table, Basha wiggled his way out, unable to stand it anymore.

  Now crouching, Basha suddenly spotted Oaka at the other end of the room, getting a pummeling from the figure standing in front of him, and though Basha couldn’t see the st
ranger, small enough to be around their age, he winced as the person wrenched Oaka’s arm behind his back.

  He knew that he shouldn’t have insisted they come in here, into this mess. But now it was too late, and they both had to get out.

  So he steeled himself, and tramped out into the mob. He bounded over fallen man, swerved to miss the swing of a bludgeon, and dashed round another table, topped by broken glass and ripped playing cards. Later, remembering how he had grabbed and spun about Oaka’s attacker, he could have sworn he had heard Fato the falcon cackling at him.

  For there, at that moment, as Basha balled up his hand into a fist, and contorted his arm back, his eyes widened at the realization that his other hand was griping the shoulder of a young woman.

  And he recognized her. “Monika?” He exclaimed.

  “Basha?” She said.

  Oaka was trying to reach for his sword again, but Basha waved him off. “What are you doing here?” Basha cried.

  “Same to you!” Monika said, tugging herself out of his grip. She crossed her arms, and blew away the sable tresses from her tan face.

  “I was…you were beating up my brother!” He said.

  Monika paused, and glanced down at his brother. “Oh, this is…what is his name?” Monika asked, turning back to Basha as Oaka glared at them both.

  “Oaka.” He said.

  “Oaka, sorry about that,” She said, as Oaka slowly started to get up, still wary.

  “Did you…did you get to see…?” Basha started to ask.

  “What, Basha?” Monika asked.

  “Did you get to see…” Suddenly, someone slammed into him, and everything went dark.

  Chapter 4: The Warehouse

  I see the problem here. She has left me to pick up the

  Million different pieces of my heart and soul, cut up

  And tossed onto the floor. What am I to do with myself?

  Just wait until she comes around again.

  --Love song, Mirandor

  “Basha!” Oaka cried when Basha had been hit, and Monika ran off, disappearing into the crowd instead of staying.

  Oaka grumbled about her ‘disappearing act’, and rushed over to Basha’s side, checking to see if his brother was all right, unconscious, as Fato came down, also concerned. The innkeeper finally intervened, breaking up the brawl with a desperate and menacing ploy, and those few brawlers left standing were made to clean up the mess, and go see the constable. Oaka managed to convince the innkeeper that he was not involved, and that he had to go tend to his brother.

  Oaka had never seen such a brawl as this. There had been a few fights at The Smiling Stallion inn in the past. Maybe some pints had been thrown and a little beer was spilled, but Geda, Basha, Oaka and even Habala had always been able to break up those fights in the end before they ever escalated. And apparently this brawl started because of a card game, one that the Zarien girl Monika had been involved in, and Oaka huffed over the whole episode, carrying Basha upstairs with some help from the innkeeper of The Walking Duck, as he thought to himself that this whole thing would not have happened if Basha had not gotten involved, walking in, and if this innkeeper had done a better job protecting and serving his guests. His father Geda was much better than…he stopped himself before he got to thinking of home too much.

  Oh, Coe Baba, he was not even 200 miles away from it, and yet he already missed it so much. His parents, Habala and Geda, never had he imagined that he would miss them. Oaka shook his head, sitting by Basha’s bed. Sisila was the one he thought most of all about. He had found and read her letter the first night out of Coe Baba, and he had read it over again and again, dying to hear her voice again as he wanted to so much tell her what he was suffering without her. They were in a cramped room, much smaller than the ones in Coe Baba, and the floorboards creaked too much. Oaka remembered his first impression of Coe Anji, a leaning town about ready to topple over with all of the buildings poorly constructed, and he was almost afraid to walk across the floorboards, in case they might collapse beneath him.

  Fato, perched on a knob at the end of Basha’s bed, looked at the young man and then turned to Oaka. “So, um...how are you doing, Oaka?”

  “Fine, thanks.” Oaka said, not really looking at the bird.

  Fato sighed, and turned back to Basha.

  “Urrum...” Basha said, starting to wake up as Fato and Oaka leaned forward. “Ugh...I see...someone who should really thank me,” Basha said to Oaka.

  “Thank you? For what?” Oaka asked.

  “I got you out of that fight with Monika.” Basha said.

  “Basha, you…”

  Fato laughed. “Boy, that girl, she sure was something! You couldn’t see yourself, Oaka, but it was quite an event for me! First off, right, I hear you yelling, then I see Basha running off through the crowd, off to rescue his brother in distress!” Fato gasped. “You should have seen yourself. Honestly, I could have been malakeled at that moment when…gasp! It was a little girl who had been beating you up all along! Oh, you were a quivering heap of nerves by the time Basha reached you! But she was just as calm as anything, even when she was caught in the act!”

  “Fato.” Basha and Oaka both said, glaring at the bird.

  “All right, all right. Mind you, there is a plaque in Coe Kiki, dedicated to the goddess…‘She is a woman not to be scorned,’” The falcon recited, “‘Tyrant and yet merciful to the meek; Goddess queen and mother of all, Quela rules in these halls of law.’” Fato sighed to himself. “She reminds me of that.”

  Oaka shook his head. “I wouldn’t even have been in that fight if Basha hadn’t…why did we stay?” Oaka asked. The bird was strange, and he couldn’t trust it, but Basha, he should be able to trust his adopted brother.

  “I did not want to leave without…I did not know what else we were supposed to do,” Basha sighed. “We can leave now if you want.”

  “Can’t, I already paid for this room tonight,” Oaka moaned.

  “Quibbling over money,” Fato muttered to himself.

  “Very expensive it was, much more expensive than in Coe Baba. But we needed this room, for Basha,” Oaka said, glancing over at the bird, “and I dreaded to think how much they might charge at other inns.”

  “How much do we have?” Basha asked.

  “We have six silver coins, 45 copper coins, and 38 bronze.” Oaka said. “That is about 108 and an eighth copper coins.”

  “Why is it that humans are so concerned with…”

  “Shut up, Fato. That may last us awhile.” Basha said. “A drink might cost 1 copper, a meal or a stay at an inn would cost 5…”

  “Telling me to shut up?” Fato remarked, and then muttered to himself.

  “Actually, here at The Walking Duck inn, it cost 8 coppers.” Oaka said.

  “Eight copper coins a night? At this rate…that does it, we have to leave tomorrow,” Basha said.

  “Can’t spend too much money,” Fato said, rolling his eyes.

  “Good idea, just what I was thinking.” Oaka said, glancing over at the bird again.

  “We will have to buy some things here to make it to Coe Aela, perhaps beyond, and then hope that they might be generous.” Basha said.

  “What, Coe Aela?” Fato gasped, turning towards them. “We’re going to Coe Aela? We can’t do that, why are we doing that?”

  “Or bargain a bit on whatever we might want to purchase from them.” Basha said, glancing over at Fato as well. He wondered what had freaked out Fato like this.

  “Why is it that…” The bird started to say.

  “I miss Sir Nickleby.” Oaka said. “He was quiet, and I swear he had some gold coins.”

  Fato frowned to himself, and shook his head, turning away from them.

  “Oaka, I miss him too,” Basha sighed. “He would not have walked us straight into that fight. He was smart enough to avoid such things.”

  “Or he would have told us to stay outside, and gone in himself to break up that brawl.” Oaka suggested.

 
Fato opened his mouth, about to say something, but then decided to stay quiet. Instead, he flapped his way over to the shutters, and then waited for Oaka to open them so that he could fly off through the window. Let them enjoy their reminiscing, or what not, he had some business to take care of before it was too late.

  Oaka watched him go, and wished that he could fly as well, back to Coe Baba and Sisila before returning. “Do you suppose that we could ask him to deliver messages back home for us?” Oaka asked.

  “I don’t think we could,” Basha said. “He is supposed to be a royal messenger bird, after all, and that might mean he can only deliver messages for the king and his court.”

  Oaka shook his head. “What good is he for?” He muttered as Fato disappeared in the distance.

  “Fato has flown off before, have you noticed?” Basha asked after a few moments.

  Oaka slowly nodded. “Once or twice, in the forest, but he has flown back within a few minutes.”

  “Do you suppose he will come back?” Basha asked.

  Oaka smiled. “Doubt it.” He said, closing the shutters firmly. Let him go away, and never return. They were better off without him.

  “Do you have paper, pen, or ink?” Basha asked.

  Oaka stopped. “Um, I left that in our father’s desk at home, do you suppose we should go back and…”

  “Stop that, Oaka,” Basha said, slowly getting out of bed.

  “Are you sure you should be moving like that, Basha, so soon after you got hit?” Oaka asked as his brother stood up, and walked around a bit.

  “I could ask you the same, Oaka,” Basha retorted, and then shook his head. “I need to move before I get stuck in here all night long, and I need to find us a paper shop or a vendor who sells writing supplies so that we can write our letter home.”