The Long Road To... - 15. Flight of the Bird

The forest was dark, very dark. No stars glimmered between the trees, perhaps branches blocked the entire sky. I rode slowly, walking my horse farther and farther away. Night sounds, familiar and unfamiliar, surrounded me. There was no reason the stop. My head slowed, numbness flooded through my body. The horse’s steps were the only movement.

~ ~ ~

The trees seemed gray, the forest covered in a haze. The sun must have been rising. Branches covered the horizon. I dismounted next to a old fallen tree. It had been there a long time, partially rotted into the ground. It felt tired, worn, and old. The first birds began to sing. The horse leaned down chew on a bush. I removed the bit and pulled my gear off him before sinking down next to the broken limbs of the tree. I leaned back and closed my eyes. My body took over and I lost my fight to stay awake.

~ ~ ~

Warmth and light disturbed me. The sun had shifted and cast a bright beam of whiteness on my face. I blinked several times and shifted my brow into shadow. A breeze rustled the brush.

I was alone.

The horse must have begun its long walk home. It was just as well. I did not know where I was going anyway. I stretched, reworked the gear onto my back alone, buried what I could live without, and started off again.

The dusty grays returned to the canopy of leaves way to soon. In the distance I could hear the trickle of water on rock. I followed the sound to a brook. I started a fire in the fading light. It was warm enough, but the light and crackle gave me comfort. Fresh water cleansed my mouth. I settled in for the night, and the next, and the next.

~ ~ ~

My eventual need for food overcame my lethargy. Since coming to this forest, I had seen only a handful of animals other than birds. If there were any, they would have to come for water. I followed the flow of the water looking for signs of tracks or paths. Eventually, I came to where the brook entered a modest stream. Small fish congregated in the shallows, although they were not large enough to eat, the fruit hanging from the tree above them was.

~ ~ ~

I could not live on fruit forever, so I followed the stream and was rewarded to find it flowed into a larger, fast running one, one with bigger fish.

~ ~ ~

I was able to catch a pair of rabbits.

~ ~ ~

I constructed a crude shelter against a tree, little more than a lean-to, it would keep the rain off when the time came.

~ ~ ~

Life was good, simple.
No thoughts other than to survive.
There was nothing else.
Food, water, shelter, and fire.

I don’t know how many days had passed, they had blurred into one continuous haze.

~ ~ ~

It was dusk when I added twigs to the fire. The wood had been wet again and sent up puffs of smoke. I coughed a few times. Tonight I would have fish. I went over to the water and my lines. Nothing yet. I could wait, I had all the time in the world.

I was shoved from behind. Multiple rough hands pushed me down into the mud. Rough voices yelled. I struggled but was beaten until they could firmly tie my hands behind my back.

I heard a voice speak in a language I did not understand and another respond.

I was manhandled and dragged before a young but grizzled man. He looked down at me appraising. Two others held me in place.

“atzerrikoa?” he appeared to ask. Then he held up my saddlebag from my long gone horse. “eta hau?”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what would save me. “Not stolen.”

He looked at me thoughtfully, trying to understand, maybe he did.

The first voice, I could see him now, a peasant or a trapper, spoke into the man’s ear.

They both looked at me.

The trapper spoke again, questioning.

The man, I assumed a leader or captain, nodded and a small purse was thrown to the peasant. He scrambled out of sight. The captain spoke some orders and strode into the trees. I was roughly marched and, at points, dragged behind. We followed the stream for hours as it got larger and wider. Around the bend of the rushing river, we came to a ruined bridge. It had been burned. On our side of the water, horses sat on the road. The men here held torches, I recognized the designs they wore from the battle. The battle from who knew how long ago? Days? Weeks? It was another life.

Without so much as a word, a rope was looped around my neck and tied to the saddle of a horse. We began another march. The road was easier to walk on but they made a fast, almost too fast pace.

As we marched, I turned and saw the remains of, what had been, men on the side of the road. They had been dead for weeks. The pieces left still showed cuts into the bones. Before I could see more, we were already past.

We stopped only once at a rude hut by the side of the road. I fell asleep only to be woken by swift kicks to the ribs and legs. We came to a heavy wooden fortification as the sun was rising. It was a good sized keep with a town. Wooden palisades complete with surrounding ditches provided layers of protection. I was walked past all of these defenses and a few dozen wide-eyed citizens.

The captain spoke more orders to the men around me and walked away. I was taken into a small, windowless cell and locked in. The only light came from a grate on the door. Guards occasionally looked in but did not speak to me. I wanted to sleep, but could not find the energy. Water was shoved under the wood and I drank its staleness greedily.

I had just closed my eyes when the door opened and a group grabbed me, shackled my hands, and beat me. No questions, nothing to answer even if I could make them understand me.

The evening brought the same.

The next day I was manhandled into my shackles and hauled out of my cell. They brought me across the yard and to the side of a large central hall. More people were around and many stopped and openly stared. My guards and I waited for a time just outside the doors, presumably waiting for my turn. I could see a set of gallows near the outer wall.

I was marched in to the center of the hall. The change from light to shadow blinded me momentarily. When my eyes focused, I found myself in front of a big table with a small man, presumably the leader, on a large chair behind it. The room was packed with spectators.

The captain spoke loud enough for the chief behind the table and the spectators in the hall to hear. I could not understand a word. He brought my bag forward and set it on the table. The chief picked at it as if it might bite him. He looked up at me, his face dark.

“hori nola lortu duzu?”

His face went red while he gestured and shouted wildly. I was struck across the face by one of the guards.

The chief sat back and arched his fingers speaking more tightly which alarmed me more. He squinted and thought for a moment, the room went silent. When he spoke again, it was eerily calm. His face betrayed a cruelness in the meaningless words.

I felt hands tighten on my arms at the same time I heard a voice.

“Ahalbidetzen dit.”

I heard the gasps followed by the rustle of fabrics as people bowed. I glanced to the left, away and yet behind the chief.
Even the chief sat upright. “Phaetheon. Zure bisita gurekin harrituko duzu.”

The man walked calmly into the hall and came to a stop directly in front of me. He was plain, brown hair, brown beard, and brown eyes. He was shorter than I, shorter than average. He looked directly up into my eyes. His long cloak was a strange dark hue, green and blue mixed into one color, a shade more appropriate to an exotic bird that comes out only at twilight. On his chest was a crest of the same green-blue hue with a emblazoned black crescent. He was different than the others in the hall, even from the leader. He radiated power and confidence. His eyes sparkled yet he kept his lips in a firm, straight line.

He turned and made a short, barely noticeable bow to the chief and spoke to him easily.

The chief paled slightly during his replies. There was a hesitation in him, a fear.

Without warning the chief shouted orders and then pointed at me. There was a general commotion as the hall began to empty. I was turned to the door.

I heard the green-blue man shout. The hall quieted and he spoke directly at the chief.

The guards forced us through the crowd and put me back into the cell with bread and water to wait.

During the changing of the guard, I overheard some of the guards gossiping and wished I could understand them. There was a shout and I recognized the captain’s stern voice. After that, the remaining guards kept quiet.

~ ~ ~

It was dusk when my interrogator arrived. I heard quick, short orders and the door was opened.

He stood framed in the door as if asking permission to come in. The exotic cloak was gone, he was dressed in plain brown clothes, almost like a holy man, except for the same green-blue crest with black crescent.

He gave a quick, glance and nod over his shoulder before entering. The door locked behind him. The light from the small lantern he set on the floor was the only light to see his face by.

“I suppose I should apologize for the delay, my meeting with the Duke went longer than expected.” He said it evenly with no intent. My jaw dropped hearing the gentle, flowing words.

“You speak the common tongue, yes?”

I nodded.

“My name is Phaetheon.”

He sat himself on the stool in the corner and studied me. I broke his stare by looking down at the floor. I didn’t look up, but I still felt him watching. I could only guess what he thought. I didn’t much care. There was nothing to say. I wanted to be left alone. Alone as I really was.

“Do you want to know what I think?” His voice was tired. I raised my head. He sighed.

“You are not a spy, I know that, hell even the Duke knows that. A spy would never have been caught with the saddlebag.”

I breathed out.

“You are obviously a foreigner, so chances are you don’t know a lot about the situation here. If they had warned you better up there, you either would not have come this way or would have had the sense to get rid of anything considered evidence.” He paused and studied me again.

“Then there is the rest of your belongings. Warrior or mercenary armor, eh? So what would someone like you be doing alone, this far from your home on the other side of the world equipped like that?" It was more of a question to himself. "From what I saw, your sword has seen battle… recently…”

He looked at me again, waiting, tired, but expectant. I looked away.

“Ah… very recently then. The Duke reported his men were ambushed at the river…”

“Attached at our gates!” I had said too much.

He studied my expression, possibly waiting for more. When I didn’t continue, he shook his head.

“As we feared.” He breathed out. “You may or may not have information about this little war, but you would be much safer away from here and with the King, I think. We’ve got to get you out before the Duke comes up with something terrible.”

I studied him again, there was a whirl of activity behind his eyes.

“Ismenios!” He called through the door. “You will have to stay here at present. Soon though, soon.” The door opened and a man leaned in. He wore the same green-blue crescent crest on his chest.

“Ismenios keep our men guarding…” He looked at me thoughtfully, opened his mouth then closed it again before beginning once more. “Ismenios, keep our men guarding this gentlemen. He may have useful information for the King. Not for the Duke. Let no one near him and see that what he eats is as safe as your own. Understood?”

The young man nodded.

Phaetheon turned to me. “Ismenios here will be in charge of your safety until we leave. I would say tell no one anything, but you already have the knack of that.” He smiled. “One day, I hope to talk more freely with you, and... know your name.” He nodded, turned, and strode out the door.

I looked at Ismenios. He looked at me and nodded before following. The door was locked behind them and I was left alone again.

~ ~ ~

Ismenios returned in the morning with heartier food than before and left with a short, but respectful “Sir.”

The day I was left in silence. Even the guard or guards on duty held their tongues.

The evening and following morning meals were the only time I saw anyone and that anyone was Ismenios. He was polite, did not speak more than a word or two, and kept to task. He would watch me eat and leave without asking questions. I did not ask any either.
His countenance was different when he brought the evening meal.

“When time you wash day last?” The longest sentence yet. He was unsure of his words. That was why he did not speak too much! He was not that skilled in common tongue yet.

I shook my head and shrugged.

“Later. Quiet. We you wash-house.”

I nodded.

~ ~ ~

It was pitch dark when I woke to the door of the cell being opened. Ismenios pushed a dim lantern in front of himself. “Good.” He nodded to the man behind him. He approached with manacles. I bolted upright.

“Shh..” Ismenios made calming motions. “Look prisoner. No worry. Please. Sir.”

I submitted to the man and we made our way out.

“Quiet, yes?” Ismenios whispered.

We walked along the wall in the shadows to the side opposite and into a little hut like structure.

Once inside, the guards with us lit a single lantern inside and left. They closed the door behind themselves. Ismenios remained holding the keys. The bath was little more than a small stone-lined hole in the ground with the remnants of a fire pit beside it.

Ismenios handed me the keys as he spoke. “Water cool. Not want fire. Attract attention.” He leaned against the wall while I unshackled, undressed, and got into the cold water.

“Good, yes?”

I nodded.

“Good.”

He watched me intently. I did not like it and frowned. He pointed at me. “Bad.”

I looked at my chest and arms. Bruises and cuts from the captain and his guards.

I spent a few more minutes of rinsing before getting up. Ismenios handed me rags to dry myself and then a set of clothes.

“Phaetheon say.” I looked at the shirt and breeches. They looked like what he was wearing, except larger. The same crest with black crescent on the chest.

“Artor clothes.” I looked up at him. “Phaetheon man. They to fit. Tight.”

They fit both awkwardly and constricting in different places. Ismenios chuckled quietly.

“Cover good.”

I was bound and led back to the cell once more. After removing the manacles, Ismenious turned to me again.

“Leave tomorrow. Not be easy. Stay to me. Long road. Goodnight sir.”

~ ~ ~

The door opened, blinding me before closing quickly again.

“Sir! Sir!” It was Ismenios. “Time go!” He was already trying to bind my hands.

“Leave now. Tell later. Quiet, yes.”

He pushed me outside. The light made me close my eyes. I fell onto another figure. I opened them to see a large man, nearly as large as I.

“Artor, help,” Ismenios hissed.

Artor grabbed my arm to steady me, looked at his clothes on me, then grinned.

Ismenios issued an order and he and a man got in front of me, Artor and another got behind.

We marched quickly. A few other guards approached us and shouted all kinds of things. No one from our party said a word. We were only slightly slowed by villagers not able to get out of the way fast enough. We came to the stables and I was hoisted up onto a horse whose reigns were tied to another. Artor gestured for me to hold onto the saddle only. The rest of the group, all Phaetheon’s men by the looks of the blue-green crests with black crescents on them, mounted and we walked out into the yard to another group of waiting horses. As soon as we came to a stop, we heard the shouting.

Phaeteon came around the corner dressed once again in his green-blue robes, creating a certain degree of regality about himself. The Duke trailed close behind. Both were followed by the captain.

Phaetheon replied back loud but evenly.

More angry words, the Duke’s face was red.

Phaetheon again remained stone-faced as he stopped next to one of the horses.

The Duke continued his protest.

Phaetheon shouted a single word. The Duke jumped back and into the captain. Phaetheon turned to us and ordered the rest to mount up.

The Duke darkened while watching Phaetheon climb into the saddle. He saw me and his eyes blazed. The captain was suddenly at his side. He was speaking low so that only the captain could hear him.

Phaetheon moved forward on his horse and the rest of us followed in formation past the Duke. With a flash of silver and gold, he turned on his heel and staked off, the captain already gone.

We proceeded through the town to the main gate. Our progress was slow due to the crowd that had formed in the street to watch. As we approached the still closed gates, I could see soldiers in a line blocking us. A few above with bows ready.

Phaeteon proceeded forward to the captain who stood at the front of the men on the ground. When the captain did not move, he stopped and spoke evenly.

The captain growled out a response.

“Ismenios!” Phaetheon shouted.

Ismenios immediately trotted up beside Phaetheon with his hand on his sword. The captain pulled his.

Phaetheon barked.

There was only the sound of the wind.

Phaetheon jumped down and threw his reigns to Ismenios. Without any hesitation, Phaetheon walked directly at the captain causing him to step back. He spoke low and angry words up into the larger man’s whitening face. The other men around him looked shocked and afraid.

Phaetheon turned to the nearest one and shouted. The man rushed to begin pulling back the bars, others scrambled to help him. The road was suddenly cleared of men and the gates slowly opened wide. Only the captain remained in the middle, alone and clearly terrified.

Without turning back to us, Phaetheon gestured for our group to advance. Ismenios brought the empty horse, but Phaetheon declined and stood his ground next to the cowering captain. We split and rode around them slowly. We crossed through and out. I looked over my shoulder to see Phaetheon still standing next to the captain. We proceeded till we were just out of range of the bowmen on the gate.

Ismenios called to us and we halted. I turned to look back but could not see Phaetheon.

There was muttering between the men.

“What he doing?” I heard one of them ask.

“Scaring shit out of them,” another chuckled nervously back.

Ismenios sat stone-faced, watching.

We waited.

“Phaetheon!” Someone exclaimed.

Phaetheon walked towards us slowly, unhurried, exposed to the archers.

Not one arrow flew.

As he got close, I could see he was sweating and definitely looking disturbed. His face was flushed and his brow furrowed. Without a word, he took the reigns and mounted.

Ismenios called and we began a trot forward and away.

Phaetheon joined the line just behind Artor. I could see him pull his hood over his head and his robe closer to himself.