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    mcarss
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Deeds of Their Past - 2. Chapter Two

Nathan, angry with himself for being caught off-guard, had already planned three ways to kill his attacker. However, as soon as the man had spoken, he knew it wouldn’t be necessary.

“Danny, you drunken fool. It’s me.”

The man wasn’t about to give up what he thought was the upper hand. “I don’t know you! Gimme a reason I shoun’t slit yer throat from ear to ear.”

“It’s Nathan,” he said plainly.

“Wha—”

The man quickly spun Nathan around and pulled back his hood to reveal an impish smile.

“Gods, Nathan. I wasn’t foolin’,” he said, waving the knife.

Nathan laughed. “An old woman is safe from you and that blade of yours.”

Danny chuckled and slapped Nathan roughly on the back. “It’s been too long, friend.”

“I know. I’ve been busy, and work hasn’t brought me this way until now.”

“Work, work. There’s more t’life than that, isn’t there?”

Nathan ignored the question as they entered Danny’s home. “So tell me, do you usually hide in shadows waiting to attack people?”

Danny chuckled again, pulling out two glasses and a bottle of liquor. “I was comin’ back from th’ tavern, and saw a dangerous lookin’ man knockin’ at m’door. I wasn’t gonna take any chances, you know?”

Nathan nodded. “Yeah. Listen, you’re going to hate me for this, but I actually came here on business.”

“Drinks first!”

“One drink.”

Danny started pouring, smiling devilishly with eyes wide. “I’ll make’t a big drink then.”

They chatted for a while, catching up on news and stories they heard. Nathan knew Danny since starting in his line of work and was a valuable asset. He had many connections, and was able to procure items that one couldn’t buy from any merchant. Nathan never understood how Danny managed to reach the position he was in, given he was inebriated most of the time.

“Alright Danny. I hate to cut this lovely reunion short, but I have a long ride tomorrow and I want to get some sleep.”

“Oh, com’on now. One more can’t hurt?”

Danny lifted the bottle, but Nathan covered his glass with a hand and shook his head.

“Ahh, fine.” Danny poured himself another glass. “So what do y’need from me then?”

“Deathcap, preferably dried and ground to powder.”

“Aye, that I have . . . I think I do.”

Danny stood up, staggered to a tall cupboard along the far wall, and shifted through a series of small bottles. After a moment, he returned with a clear vial, shaking a slight amount of white powder within.

“Whad’ya know, I’ve got this bit left. Enough for ya?”

Nathan untied the coin purse hanging from his belt. “That should do fine. How much?”

Danny considered the bottle. “Make it ten silver.”

While Nathan counted, Danny sat down and continued drinking. Nathan stacked the coins neatly on the table and took the vial.

“Thanks Danny, always a pleasure. Sorry for not staying longer.”

“S’okay. Don’t be a stranger,” he said with a toothy grin.

“I’ll try my best. Take care of yourself, and maybe lay off the drink?”

“Screw off!” Danny slurred, attempting to stand.

“Don’t worry, I’ll see myself out,” Nathan said with a grin.

As soon as he opened the door, a gust of cold wind blew in. Papers on a nearby shelf flew onto the floor.

“What’s goin’ on out there?”

The wind dispersed, and Nathan suddenly had an uneasy feeling in his stomach. “Uh, I’m not sure. Rogue wind?” he suggested lamely, shrugging his shoulders.

“Never heard o’ it.”

“Goodnight, my friend.”

He quickly closed the door behind him and peered down both directions of the alleyway. It was dark now, but he still could make out enough detail from the lamplight in the windows to find his way out.

The uneasy feeling subsided, and he wondered if he was just being paranoid. It was just wind. Pulling his hood forward, he started back the way he came, paying close attention to the small recesses where Danny had caught him earlier.

Reaching the deserted street, he was surprised to find it strangely silent aside from a few chirping crickets. It didn’t take long to reach The Black Lamb, and once inside, found the usual rabble within. They were loud and boisterous, and Nathan wasn’t in the mood for such company.

He spoke with the barkeep, Griff, about renting a room for the night, and took a meal with him to the relative quiet of his room. While he ate, his thoughts returned to the curious wind that seemed to follow him. Goosebumps covered his skin, and he shivered despite the sweat upon his brow.

Nathan peered about the small room, lit by a candle, feeling as though eyes were watching him. He glanced over at the window, wanting to open it for some fresh air, but decided against it. Undressing quickly, he blew out the candle and lay in bed. After hours of uneasy thoughts, sleep finally took him.

* * *

The morning sun was well below the horizon by the time Nathan rode out of Remich. Gathering clouds burned a deep crimson hue, and while he appreciated its beauty, he knew it was a sign of foul weather to come.

A league outside of town, he arrived at the north road that led to the keep, and gazed upon a layered landscape where grassy foothills met a forest of evergreens. Beyond, a vast mountain range towered above, their snowy peaks reaching for the clouds.

Those same clouds gradually filled the sky as the morning progressed. Smaller trees gave way to towering pines, muting the light of day. A bed of fallen needles muffled his horse’s hooves, allowing him to enjoy the birdsong among the boughs.

Hours passed with nobody in sight, and while he’d never travelled this road before, he expected to cross paths with someone by now. However, being close to his destination, this was to his advantage. The fewer he met, the easier it would be to cover his tracks if needed.

Ahead, a steep mountain face broke the monotony of endless trees, forcing the road to switchback its way up. It narrowed considerably, the hard dirt road giving way to crumbling rock, and he allowed his mount to grow accustomed to the new terrain before pushing on.

By late afternoon, the grey clouds grew ominous, bringing with it the telltale scent of rain, and he silently cursed the sky. Large solitary drops announced the arrival of the storm, and he pulled his hood farther forward as the rain began to fall unabated. Catching a glimpse of a small outcropping in the rock, he took shelter to wait out the worst of the torrential rainfall.

Leaning against the stone wall, he ate the last of the salted meat, watching a fog rise from the sea of trees below. Layer after layer of treetops slowly disappeared in the gathering mist. The storm blew itself out quickly, leaving behind gentle showers, and he continued on his way.

Reaching a split in the road an hour later, he turned north. The continued rain had soaked through his cloak, leaving him shivering cold, but knowing he was on the final leg of his journey offered a small solace.

The mountainous landscape flattened out, allowing the evergreens to grow in earnest. The forest was still developing, allowing young pines to grow in a denser formation, with scrubby brush filling in between. Despite the day’s climb, he was still at the base of the mountain range, and he marvelled at the huge peaks towering overhead. Amid the gloom, the keep appeared in the distance, and Nathan could appreciate the defensive might that such a location provided.

By the time he arrived, the sky was dark and rain still sprinkled down. He dismounted, leading his horse the final few steps to the keep’s gated entrance, guarded by two pikemen. Even for simple gatekeepers, they appeared to be a force to be reckoned with. Black tabards, bearing the red coat of arms of the kingdom, lay atop thick chainmail. Sturdy plate protected their legs, and they wore heavy black leather boots and gauntlets. As he emerged into the torchlight, the two men snapped to attention.

“Halt! State your business,” the guard on his left said, his face obscured under a half helm.

“My name is Nathan,” he said, pulling back the wet hood. “I seek an audience with Lord Helmsley. He’s been expecting me.”

Removing his riding glove, he presented the signet ring Samuel had given him. In unison, the two men nervously glanced at each other.

“Right away, sir.”

The lead pikeman turned and banged loudly on the iron bars. “Open up! And we’ll need an escort.”

After a moment, two more similarly armoured guards appeared on the other side, turning a large crank to open the portcullis. Once secured, the lead pikeman pulled one man aside, speaking quietly to him. Meanwhile, the other pikeman stepped up, offering to take the reins.

“We’ll care for your horse during your stay, sir.”

Nathan handed him the reins and silently nodded his thanks, trying to hear the hushed conversation, yet it quickly ended and the lead pikeman beckoned Nathan to join them.

“Tarn here will escort you,” he said, gesturing to the burly guard.

Nathan didn’t know what to say, so he just smiled and nodded.

“I trust you will enjoy your stay at Helmsley Keep,” he finished with a well-practiced cadence.

Tarn ushered Nathan into the courtyard, following closely behind. Two guards flanked the main entrance of the keep, and in perfect time, they marched from their post to open the large wooden doors. Once through, the solid doors shut behind them with a boom that reverberated in the grand hall.

“If you’ll just wait here a moment,” Tarn said, stepping over to another sentry standing at the entrance of a hallway.

Another quiet conversation. Nathan strained his ears for details but still couldn’t catch any words. After the brief chat, the sentry nodded at the guard’s instruction and headed down the hallway. Tarn returned to Nathan offering a friendly smile, and removing a nearby torch from a sconce, he motioned to the stairs.

“I’ll see you to your quarters while Lord Helmsley is made known of your arrival.”

He led Nathan through a series of corridors before finally arriving at a nondescript door. Opening it, he placed the torch in a bracket, lighting a welcoming bedroom with lavish furnishings.

“Someone will arrive soon with food and drink. Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll be back shortly,” Tarn said, smiling warmly again.

Nathan nodded his thanks, and the guard closed the door behind him. He thought it strange that while other guards seemed nervous of Nathan’s arrival, Tarn was just a friendly guy. He liked him.

Finding a hook on the wall near the fireplace, he removed his sodden cloak and hung it to dry. Nearby lay kindling and wood logs, and he quickly had a fire burning. While warming himself, a commotion outside his window caught his attention. Peering into the courtyard below, four armoured men on horseback galloped into the darkness beyond the keep. He thought it strange to travel at such a time, and in such miserable weather.

A knock at the door gave him a jump. Before he could answer, a small woman swept in carrying a tray of food.

“I apologize for the delay. I could’ve taken care of that,” she said, motioning at the lit fireplace.

Nathan smiled and raised his hands. “Honestly, it was no trouble.”

With wide eyes, she caught sight of the silver ring around his finger, and avoided his gaze with a reddening face. After placing the tray on a table near the fireplace, she lit large candles discreetly placed around the room. Their glow added to the welcoming nature of his quarters.

“You’re wet,” she said. “I’ll have a hot bath prepared for you. Please eat, and I’ll return in short order.”

“My thanks,” Nathan said with a nod.

Face still red, she fled out of the room and closed the door. Perplexed, he examined the simple silver ring. What did it mean to them, and why were they so nervous around him?

A rumbling stomach broke his thoughts, and upon seeing the tray of delicious meats, bread, cheese and fruits, he realized he was ravenous. Jumping into the over-sized plush chair near the fireplace, he ate quickly, taking little time to savour his meal.

Once his belly was satiated, he poured wine from an ornate carafe into a goblet and drank leisurely, stretched out on the chair and staring deeply into the roaring fire. After draining his third cup, a knock at the door broke his relaxed state.

“Come in.”

The door opened and Tarn entered halfway. “I apologize for the intrusion, sir.”

Nathan was growing weary of the special treatment, and in his partially inebriated state, tried to put the guard at ease. “Tarn, my friend. Come in. What news do you have?”

Tarn seemed unsure of Nathan’s tone, yet stepped in with a small smile on his round face. “I’m sorry to inform you that Lord Helmsley will be unable to grant you an audience this evening. He’s been held up on other matters.”

“Well, that’s understandable. I certainly didn’t expect him to drop everything just to see me.”

“Very well,” Tarn said, turning to leave. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“As a matter of fact, there is,” Nathan said with a smile, patting the empty seat beside him. “Why don’t you rest your feet a moment?”

“Uhhm . . .”

With fidgety fingers, the guard glanced at the seat and then back at the door, seemingly at a loss of what to do. Finally, he bolstered his courage and joined him by the fire. Moving his scabbard out of the way, he sat down looking terribly uncomfortable.

“I’m going to ask you a question you may find bizarre, but please bear with me.”

Nathan held out his hand bearing the ring. Tarn, head still, eyed the ring for a moment before looking back at Nathan.

“What in hells does this mean?” Nathan asked, pointing at the ring.

“Sir . . . is this a test?”

“What? No,” Nathan chuckled. “Please, I just need to know what this ring means to you.”

“It means you’re an honoured guest to Lord Helmsley. The ring you bear signifies that you are to be treated with the same respect as the Lord Helmsley himself.”

Nathan laughed. “Well, that certainly explains why everyone has been acting so proper about me. You’ve got to understand I’m not used to this kind of treatment.”

“We receive few visitors who bear that ring. You must be a man of import,” Tarn said straight-faced, as though it was fact.

Nathan chuckled and patted the guard on the shoulder, causing him to jump. “I was asked to see Lord Helmsley to complete a task, but I’m certainly not an important man. Rest easy, my friend.”

A grin slowly grew on Tarn’s face, and he relaxed noticeably. “I assumed you were royalty.”

Nathan gestured at his simple clothes. “Do I look like royalty to you?”

“No, I guess not. I admit I was confused by your attire and you travelling here alone, but you need to understand that when we see that ring . . .”

“Well, that certainly explains everything. Everyone’s been making me nervous.”

Nathan grabbed the carafe, refilled his goblet and offered it to Tarn. “Have a taste. It’s a truly exquisite wine, and I hate drinking alone.”

The guard held up a hand. “Oh, no thank you. I’m on duty.”

“Oh come on. A taste isn’t going to hurt anyone.”

Tarn gave in, hesitantly taking the goblet and sipped at the wine. A sudden loud rap at the door caused him to choke in surprise, but he managed to place the goblet on the table without spilling.

“I’ll get that for you,” he said, rushing to the door.

The short woman appeared and glanced up at the guard, surprised to see him. Tarn ignored her and turned to Nathan. “I bid you a good night, sir. I’ll return in the morning when Lord Helmsley is ready to see you.”

Nathan, laughing inwardly at his nervous behaviour, waved casually. “Thanks Tarn. Goodnight.”

He left in a hurry, leaving the woman standing in the doorway.

“Your bath is ready, sir. If you’re ready, please follow me.”

Nathan took a large gulp of wine before standing, finding his balance waver slightly. “Lead the way, my good woman.”

© 2013 Mike Carss
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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