The Dread Lords Rising by J. David Phillips


  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Piper’s Flute

 

  The Piper’s Flute, with the largest room available in Havel’s Dock, served as both an inn for travelers and the town’s meeting place for civil matters. Tonight, Davin thought it was packed like a bag of squirming crawfish. He had never seen so many people upset and restless. The air simmered, and he heard it plainly in the voice of Havel Dock’s mayor. “Quiet everyone, quiet!” Mayor Niemen called out to cut through the cacophony of agitated townspeople. “Lord Joachim has kindly come to speak with us about this issue, so please listen as he addresses some of our concerns.”

  There was something about the fidgety man that Davin did not like.

  From the center of the agitated crowd a farmer stood up. He coughed nervously and held his hands squeezed tightly shut. Talking tapered off into an expectant hush. When the man spoke, his voice was heavy with grief. “I’m just a farmer, sir. We live on the outskirts of Havel’s Dock, and it took me two full days travel and sleeping in barns to get here. That thing has eaten nearly every one of my sheep. We’ve got nothing left. Nothing. No one goes out at night. No one goes out in the day . . . and no one has seen a single one of the patrols that was promised us. Not that far out. Only in towns and villages, mind you . . .”

  The farmer’s lip quivered. Davin knew the man had never seen, let alone stood in front of a count before. He smiled at the man’s courage. Joachim waited patiently for the farmer to continue, but when the man’s nerves got the best of him, the Count nodded and stood up. Joachim wore a thick coat covered by an even thicker cloak bearing his family crest—a golden griffon ascendant with a blazing star in its talons upon a red shield. His tall frame dominated the front of the room and his grizzled features looked more at home in a roomful of farmers and peasants than in any court in Pallodine.


  When he spoke, his rough voice only added to the image of what Maerillus always described as a farmer-lord, a workingman’s king. “What is your name, sir?”

  The farmer looked around and licked his lips nervously. “Chason, sir. And I didn’t mean any offense—“

  “And none was given,” Joachim reassured him. “It’s a good question that’s on the minds of every man, woman, and child that braved the bitter cold to get here: when will help arrive for you?”

  Everyone was now so quiet that the only sound in the room came from the creaking of floorboards as people shifted in their seats. Joachim went on. “You want to know when help will arrive? I’m here to tell you that if that trall is standing outside of your door, your help is too far away to do you any good, and that’s the truth of it.”

  The room sat in stunned silence as Joachim allowed this to sink in.

  “What should we do!?” A man shouted out angrily.

  People looked around nervously, and Davin was among them. Niam leaned over and whispered, “And I always thought I had my foot in my mouth a lot.”

  Joachim continued talking. ”There is a creature on the loose—maybe even more than one—that no one in this area has had to deal with since we fought the Guldeen.”

  “Whose fault is that?” someone demanded.

  “A Sorcerer that went among us until he was discovered,” Joachim said. “He evaded capture and fled the kingdom . . . and unfortunately he retaliated by loosing this monster on us.”

  Again the room went quiet as everyone absorbed what he said.

  “That’s easy for you to say,” a surly merchant dressed in a coat as fine as any nobleman wore spat. “You’re surrounded by your guard and your troops and your Hammer. We don’t have anyone here for us!”

  Joachim remained standing, with a small, unreadable expression on his face. “That thing killed my son,” an old man so stooped by age and arthritis that he seemed to be hunchbacked stammered. “Tore him apart!”

  Someone at the back of the room cried out, “Where’s the justice? My cattle are all dead. My neighbor’s been killed. There ain’t no justice in this! None! We’ll be ruined if we’re not hunted down!”

  On the other side of the Count, one of his sergeants shifted nervously as the crowd became more emboldened. Joachim put a hand the soldier’s shoulder to keep him still. The Mayor rose to calm everyone as furious shouts burst out across the room, but Joachim leaned over and spoke into his ear. The fidgeting man looked at him, nodded his head so quickly his jowls shook, and sat back down.

  “Why did you refuse to help us?” a mousy woman in a long, thick wool dress called out over everyone else. “Men came and talked to us, saying that there was help before the snows fell, but you didn’t take it!”

  “That’s right!” another man rumbled.

  “Did you do it? Did you turn down help when we needed it?”

  Beside them, the Mayor of Havel’s Dock drummed his fingers rapidly against his thighs. Niam looked at Davin and said as quietly as possible, “Does he look guilty? I’m guilty all the time, and I know guilty—and he looks guilty.” Maerillus addressed the issue peremptorily by punching him in the shoulder.

  “I’m just saying . . .” Niam hissed.

  Davin watched how the man looked around the room in a calculating way. “Yes,” Davin whispered in annoyance. “Now keep quiet will you?”

  Niam watched eagerly, as if he were on the lookout for something else to mistrust. “Quiet! Please get quiet so I can talk!” Joachim called out. “Who told you that we have been offered help?” his words were dead calm. “Someone speak up. We need to clear the air right here and right now.” And then Joachim pointed at the mousy woman, whose narrow eyes darted rapidly around the room as she realized she had called too much attention on herself. “You, miss. Who told you that?”

  “I had to ask, for my children, Lord.”

  “I’m sure you did,” he told her.

  “There were some men from Kalavere . . . Lord Eason’s men. They’re the ones that told us you refused help.”

  “That’s not all they told us,” a man made an ugly face as he spoke up. “They said all kinds of other things, bad things. Snakes they were, and I told people they were up to no good, I did. You mind them . . . all of you. They’ve been all the way from here to Old Flood spreading their poison.”

  Davin watched as the Mayor’s face turned scarlet.

  Joachim turned to the man calmly, and his voice was as smooth as Feythean satin. “I’m sure that the good mayor here has these rumors well in hand.”

  “Well actually—” someone started, but the Mayor leapt up so quickly that Davin wondered if Niam had lit the bottom of his pants on fire.

  “—Actually!” Mayor Niemen broke in before the speaker finished his thought. “I am sure that these rumors are baseless,” he said, working his fingers nervously.

  Joachim raised his voice even louder. “I know what is being said. Several days ago Karin Ledge was attacked. Not by a trall, but by someone who wanted it to look that way.”

  “The Mayor of Old Flood blames you!” a voice called out.

  Joachim nodded his head. “Mr. Ledge is distraught, no doubt about that. And to make things worse, men dressed as my guards were seen running from the scene. But I will tell you here and now that those were not my men. I know you have only my word, but there are people who would exploit this situation for their own benefit.”

  Joachim paused for a moment.

  “I am grateful Lord Eason has offered his help, but I have noticed that from here to Old Flood and Pirim Village, I haven’t seen a single one of his men. And I’d like you to ask yourselves if he is so eager to help, where are they?” Joachim looked around defiantly. “Don’t all of you find it suspicious that his men are willing to speak in secret with you but aren’t here now? “

  “Well . . . that’s because
they’re saying your soldiers have been harassing them,“ said the Mayor. His face was scarlet. The room went deathly silent again.

  Joachim arched an eyebrow. “Then I invite Eason to write a charge and nail it to the Abbey door in Pirim Village as has always been the custom. I will happily meet him in any court of his choosing and charge him with treason.”

  Nobody said anything until Joachim spoke again.

  “If you want to be safe, you’re going to have to share your lands. Move closer to the villages and towns. Until this is over with, you will have to rely on one another. I simply do not have enough troops to contain this, and help from Eason will not be the help you think it is. If he is willing to allow his soldiers to work under my command, I will welcome all the help he sends and rescind my charge, and I will welcome any investigator from Pallodine to assist the Wizard’s Hammer sitting here with us. And if Eason turns this down, I tell you plainly that he is a coward and a traitor to the realm.”

  For several heartbeats a long silence ensued.

  Then, from outside a woman screamed shrilly. Joachim’s head jerked toward the door as several people burst in. “Murder! Murder! Dead bodies in Lord Joachim’s carts and they’re wearing Count Eason’s colors!”

 
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