Chapter 16: Arthur’s Story—The River to Market

After supper, eaten in shifts so that there was always a team of boys minding the fire, Ezra drew Arthur aside. They sat again on the bench by the dock.

“Arthur, you believe your friend was taken by slavers, so you go to Hagen,” Ezra said. “I do not want to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m very much afraid it’s worse than that.”

“I do not need to hear any more bad news,” Arthur said. “But I fear I must.”

“The Red Robes, those whom Gonde and Golgi call golemages, are worse than slavers. They capture boys who have innate magic, and who have the potential to be powerful magic users. The boys are taken not to the slave market at Hagen, but to Herten, the capital, where they are spelled into subjugation to Prince Pancrator. That is the bad news.

“There is some hope, however. It is said that it takes months, even years, to subjugate the boys. And, they are valuable to the prince, so they are not harmed. Not, that is, until they fail. Then something—something horrible—is done to their minds, and they become the soldiers who accompany the Red Robes.

“There is much you must know about Eblis,” Ezra said. “You muist know how to conduct yourself, about the dangers you will face. Will you and your companions stay with us this three day, and then along to market with us?”

Arthur agreed.

“You boys, you’re more than you seem. You’re on a quest, aren’t you?”

When Arthur looked puzzled, Ezra added. “You’re on a magical mission. We must talk about that, too.”

* * * * *

That evening, Arthur fed another log into the fire, and rolled the fired-clay stopper back across the mouth of the stove. Dale was napping. The boys had agreed to team in threes, giving Golgi and Gonde a feeling of participation without, however, holding them accountable for something with which they were not familiar. Arthur sat beside Golgi and put his arm around the boy.

“Golgi,” he said. “You said that I was constant. I think that’s a good thing, but I don’t understand what you mean.”

“It just came to me,” Golgi said. “The word, I mean. I knew right away that it was the right word.

“Back home,” he continued, “we didn’t know when we woke up if we would eat that day. In winter, when we went to sleep, we didn’t know if we would wake up, or freeze to death in the night.”

Golgi looked at Arthur. “My baby sister did . . . freeze, I mean. There was frost on her eyelids.”

Arthur felt Golgi’s mourning, He said nothing, but hugged Golgi closer to him. Golgi continued, “In summer, we didn’t know if we’d die from the bite of a snake or scorpion before morning.

“After you saved our lives, the first thing you did was to make sure we had food, and then a safe place to sleep. We’ve eaten every day since then, and, I’m not afraid to go to sleep for fear that I or Gonde will die in the night. When you washed Dale, and I saw that you liked him, I was afraid that you would abandon us. When you spoke to me, I realized that you would not . . . that you would never—” A great sob wracked Golgi’s chest and choked off whatever else he would have said.

Arthur hugged the boy more tightly, and kissed the tears from his cheeks.

“Golgi, you know I travel to rescue my best friend who was captured by the golemages. I have learned from Ezra that he was probably not taken to Hagen, but to Herten, the prince’s city. That will make my journey longer and more dangerous.

“I have promised to help you, and to do what I can to protect you, as long as we are together.

“We have sworn companionship and loyalty, for as long as we agree to travel together.

“I will not abandon you, yet I cannot ask you to take the journey I am about to take. A journey that may drag me into the darkest pit of evil in World—the prince’s city. It is a journey that will be filled with danger, danger for which neither you nor Gonde are prepared—”

Golgi put his finger across Arthur’s lips. “Arthur, my mother was not only a healer, she was a storyteller. She often told us stories of heroes, and of their journeys through the unknown.

“Gonde and I were escaping from our village, but we were also answering a call to adventure. We have received aid from you. Magical aid. Ezra and his family are, I think, the Threshold Guardians. They will test us—they are testing us. But they will also provide aid.

“Gonde and I, and you, are on a quest. It is one that cannot be denied. We will accompany you to Herten, which in Mother’s stories means heart. We will help you free your best friend. And we, like you will be transformed.”

Arthur was stunned. “Gonde? How . . .? What . . .? How do you know these things? Are you certain?”

Gonde giggled. “I know them from my mother. I am certain, and I am glad I can surprise you!”

The second night, after supper, found Arthur and Dale together while Golgi napped. Dale began the conversation.

“Before supper, Golgi approached me. He apologized for being jealous of me. He apologized for being rude in the bath. He asked me to forgive him, and if I would share boy magic with him. Of course, I agreed.

“At first, I thought that I had fallen in love with him. Then, I realized that even I—and my father says I wear my heart on my sleeve—could not fall in love that quickly. But something happened. I felt a bond with Golgi. I felt that I must protect him from all the hurt that he has seen.

“Oh, yes. He told me about his life before he met you. He loves you, you know. It’s more than just gratitude and awe. He really loves you.”

Dale’s look seemed to challenge Arthur. “I know you and he are sworn, but there must be a place there for me.”

Arthur told Dale what Golgi had said about a quest. “My mother, as did Golgi’s mother, told stories of heroes and their quests. Not all the stories ended well. While some received magical protection, others deluded themselves and were destroyed. Even worse, some of those who received magical protection depended too heavily upon it, and were destroyed. Not many of the stories had happy endings.”

Dale nodded. “I understand, for we share some of those stories.”

Later that night, while Arthur slept, Dale invited Golgi to share. Had there been anyone else awake, they would have seen the ripples in the magical field and they would have know it was the quest, the Heroes Journey, that would snare the boys and make them part of itself.

* * * * *

Arthur had confessed his inexperience with boats and the river to Dale, who had offered to travel—or, as he put it, away—with them to market. When Golgi first showed Dale the boat, Dale was startled. “You have cannabis? Quite a lot, too. Will you sell it at market?”

“I don’t think Arthur would like that,” Golgi said. “He dumped most of it when we captured the boat.”

That part of their story—including the death of the boat’s original owners—had brought applause from Ezra’s family. “That he would kill a child for only taking a ride,” Ezra’s wife, Mistress Gwynn has said.

“We kept this only to pad the blankets on which we sleep,” Golgi told Dale.

“But this is at least several shillings’ worth—perhaps as much as a crown!” Dale had exclaimed.

Mistress Gwynn made a proposal that solved two problems for Arthur. He’d not known how to repay Ezra for his family’s hospitality. When he broached the subject, Ezra demurred. “You boys have worked with mine to prepare and smoke the fish,” he said. “Were I of a mind to keep accounts, I’d consider them balanced.”

Arthur had protested. “We did nothing you do not usually do, yourselves.” But Ezra was adamant.

When Mistress Gwynn heard of the cannabis, and Arthur’s plans to dump it into the river, she asked if instead it might be sold to her sister. “She’s a Herbalist,” Mistress Gwynn quickly explained. “She will extract a compound that is used to ease the pain of childbirth, injury, or death.”

“Rather than sell these weeds, may we gift them to your sister? They were bought with blood; to gift them to someone who can make good use of them? That will remove the stain of the blood,” Arthur said.

Arthur’s offer to gift the weeds to Mistress Gwynn’s sister was graciously accepted, and Arthur slept soundly that evening.

* * * * *

Golgi seemed to come alive when the boat—recently named Heron after a Great Blue of that species who fished nearby—pulled away from the dock and moved downstream. Gonde climbed the mast and rode atop the sail, exchanging waves with Sean who held the same post on his father’s larger boat. The breeze was behind them, light but strong enough to provide steerageway. Dale rode with them, and helped with the sweeps.

Arthur insisted on Golgi being in command. “I must learn,” he reminded Golgi, and kissed him. “And,” he whispered, “I’m glad you and Dale have become friends. He’s a fine boy.”

It was not long before Gonde tired of his perch atop the sail, and slid down into the boat. Arthur caught him as he jumped the last few feet. Gonde hugged him, and then retrieved what he claimed as his fishing gear from the storage box. He baited a hook with a bit of cheese, and tossed it over the side. By mid-afternoon, he had a dozen fine fish swimming in a tub of river water, set in the bottom of the boat.

* * * * *

Ezra’s boat was recognized as it pulled up to the village dock. The several people on the dock looked suspiciously at the Heron until someone recognized Dale and told the others. Dale showed Golgi how to tie up alongside Ezra’s boat. “There won’t be enough room at the dock,” he explained. “By tomorrow there will be ten boats—more, even.”

After the boats were secured, Arthur accompanied Ezra to the village square. A woman who had been introduced as Ezra’s sister’s husband’s cousin, brought them tea from her nearby home. They sat, comfortably, on a shaded bench.

“We gather here before market,” Ezra said. “We trade among ourselves, first. We’ll leave some things here. Not all of the boats will go on to Rostock. Those that go will carry surplus from the whole family—community. We settle up when we come back.”

Ezra looked closely at Arthur. “This village is the farthest outpost of my family. Things downriver will change. People will be . . . harder, I suppose is the best word. I’m glad that you trusted my family, but I must urge you to be very, very careful in whom you trust from here on.”

“I’m glad, too, that I trusted you,” Arthur said, “and that you returned my trust. I’m glad we met your family, and am grateful for your friendship and help.”

“That brings up another matter,” Ezra said. “Dale spoke to me and his mother, and asked me to speak to you. He wants to go with you.”

Arthur was stunned. “You . . . he . . . you don’t mean just to Rostock, do you?”

Ezra shook his head. “No. He wants to go with you to find your friend. He wants to help you protect the two boys who travel with you.”

Ezra paused. “Dale was very much taken with your courage. He was also very much taken with Golgi.” Ezra smiled.

*****

Ezra and Mistress Gwynn stayed the night on shore, sleeping in the home of yet another cousin. The boys were to sleep on the boat. Arthur spread the blankets on the reeds that had replaced the cannabis, and then jumped into the water, joining the other boys who were bathing in the river. They dried off while standing on the dock, and then stepped across Ezra’s boat into the Heron.

“Dale?” Arthur asked. “Will you share with me?”

Arthur did not see Dale glance at Golgi, nor did he see that boy’s nod.

“Yes, thank you,” Dale said.

* * * * *

Arthur listened carefully. Over Dale’s still heavy breathing he heard only crickets, frogs, and the occasional plop of a fish broaching the surface to snap at an insect attracted by the lantern on the end of the dock. Arthur put his arms around Dale and pulled him close.

“Dale,” Arthur whispered. “Your father told me . . . asked me. I did not answer. In only a few days, you have become a good friend to Golgi and me. You know our purpose, and you must know, perhaps better than I, the danger we will face. Why do you want to go with us?”

Arthur felt Dale stiffen. “I asked father to speak to you because I hoped you would say yes to him without asking me. I . . . I’m ashamed.”

Arthur held Dale closely for a moment before answering. “Your father also explained how powerful shame was among your family. I think I understand, and I know that I cannot know what you feel. But I do know this: there was no darkness in your boy magic just now. Dale, you may tell me, if you wish. I will not judge. I will not judge and I will not think less of you.”

Dale’s chest heaved against Arthur’s as the boy sobbed. Arthur felt tears fall from Dale’s eyes onto his own cheeks. Still he held the boy.

At last, Dale spoke, his voice less than a whisper. “My reasons are selfish. You know my father can use magic, a little bit. What he knows, he learned over his lifetime. He has taught me what little he was able to understand. I know you to be a magic user, and a powerful one. I hoped that if you let me away with you, you would teach me what I cannot learn here. That is the first reason, and it is a selfish one. The second is also selfish. I have decided I must away with Golgi wherever he goes. Yet he cannot leave you.”

Arthur waited, but Dale was apparently finished, so Arthur answered. “Dale, you are not selfish. Selfish is Dark. I already told you that there is nothing in you that is Dark. Let’s take your reasons in reverse. You want to protect Golgi on this journey he must take. That is not selfish, and it is not Dark. I know now, from talking to your father, how dangerous that is. You want to become a mage. Why do you want to become a mage? So that you can better protect Golgi. That, too, is not Dark.

“Dale, I am bound to Golgi and Gonde, but I love a boy who is a captive of the Red Robes. I would not be jealous if you and Golgi loved one another, even pledged Brotherhood.

“I have two boys—a boy and a child, rather—who have somehow attached themselves to me. I am resolved to free my friend and companion—the boy I love—from what I now know to be a fate worse than slavery. I am afraid that I’ve undertaken more than I am capable. Know that I would welcome you—for my own selfish reasons. I would welcome a tween who could help me protect Golgi and Gonde, and who—if he were of a mind to do so—might help me rescue Robbie, the boy I love.”

Arthur fell silent. His own tears mixed with Dale’s.

“Arthur, I do not bargain with you when I say that I will follow you, and protect Golgi—and Gonde—and that I will help you rescue Robbie. I am happy to know his name. I hope that you will teach me what you know, and help me become a mage.”

“Dale,” Arthur swore, “I will teach you what I know, and I will cherish you and protect you, just as I cherish and protect Golgi and Gonde, as best I can.”

At that moment, the quest which was lying nearly dormant, became substantial, and with its own life.