Toymaker chapter 01
Entry posted by TheZot
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[i'm feeling the need for some good melodramatic monologuing and denoument (it's all Dio's fault!). Ben and William are always good for that, so while I'm sitting on Busted, and polishing up the last draft of Dirty Basement (the second complete Ben and William story) I give you... Toymaker! Or, rather, the first draft dump of it. That seemed to work pretty well with Busted. My son likes these, so this one's going to be PG, at worst]
William reined in his horse as he crested the hill. The mid-morning sun was warm on his naked shoulders, turning his tanned skin a rich gold. A light breeze fanned his long white hair out behind him, near-blinding in the light. The dark leather straps that crossed his bare chest, his only garment beside the short kidskin wrap around his waist, soaked in the heat and gave contrast to the cool air. At his side was a rapier, its hilt and scabbard a matte black with silver tracery. He was tall, lithe, and regal, looking every inch the barbarian prince astride his coal-black mare.
Beside him, on a horse as white as William's hair, sat Ben. He was dressed to match, though his skirting was fine green silk. His dark hair was tightly braided and nearly touched the back of his horse, and across his broad shoulders twined black lines and spiral tattoos that were impossible to look closely at. Around his neck were charms on leather thongs. At his wrists were wide bracelets of tooled leather set with small blood red garnets, wrapped around each bicep were strips of braided bronze. His sword was heavy, its menacing aura clear even sheathed.
William sighed as he looked at the town below him. Five miles or so at the end of the road that wound lazily down the hillside and through the farmsteads in the valley, along a narrow river. The farms continued for miles on the other side, stopping abruptly at the foot of the mountain range that marked the other side of the valley. It was quiet and pastoral. Innocent even. Hardly what he'd expected.
"This the place?" Ben asked. The question was rhetorical. He'd been there with William when they'd driven the bandits off and rescued the family, he'd heard the story as well as William had. It had started with strange noises in the night, then livestock had vanished, until finally their youngest son had been stolen in the night. By the Faerie, or so they'd said. They'd abandoned their farm and fled rather than risk their remaining two daughters.
"Looks like it," William replied. He frowned. The family had been frightened, there was no doubt about it, so terrified that they'd left their farm. People just didn't do that, didn't just leave, not unless they were wizards or had the wanderlust. The ties to a realm were too strong, binding people to the land they were born to. It took something catastrophic to change that. That there was no outward sign of anything was worrisome. "It looks peaceful enough."
"Yes," Ben said. "Except for the castle and storms."
"What?" William looked over at him, puzzled. It was a beautiful day, and there were a scant few wispy clouds in the sky. "Where?"
"Follow the road."
He did, down the hill, into the town, and out the other side. It went through farms to the foothills, and up the side of a mountain until
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