T'Lan'toria

Chapter 2

Chapter 2
This was his home. The green moss under his feet, so unlike the hard tiles that were in his father’s manor, was as soft as the finest fleece, and the hot heavy air settle like a warm blanket over Marsnick and his companions.

Marsnick had no love of politics or power, unlike his father Taringael. Masnick’s love was for the people and the land. It was his absolute abhorrence to legal matters combined with his curiosity for the ancient land that had driven him to cross into the Wilds. He had heard part of the legends of the land by accident, as such stories were against the Klicch’s law. An old man, shabbily dressed and looking quite haggard, had started telling a group of peasants the story of the old world, in particular of a place called T’lan’toria. Marsnick had been taught enough to know that he should call the guards on the man but something more than curiosity had stilled his tongue. Instead, he had waited and listened for several minutes before noise in the tavern behind him became too loud and he tried to sneak closer. The ancient man spotted him moving and had immediately switched to one of the Klicch’s own marvelous victory stories.

“My lord Marsnick, where shall I pitch your tents for the night?” Marsnick gave a start and looked down at Trenkin, a boy of no more than fifteen. Marsnick smiled then grimaced slightly as he looked at the ring through Trenkin’s left ear bearing his family crest. To cover up his grimace, Marsnick looked over at Lartorn, his friend for the past eighteen years and grinned.

“Well Trenkin, since we are now well out of the Klicch’s grasp, I think we need to change a few things.” Marsnick winked at Lartorn.

“Whatever you say, my lord,” Trenkin bobbed his head. “I believe I saw a spring and a lovely little clearing about a quarter of a league back that will suit your needs perfectly for the night. If I may be excused from your exalted presence, I will go set up camp there for the night.”

Lartorn heaved a sigh, “Mars, I don’t think your boy gets it.” Lartorn looked down into the boy’s eyes and gently said, “Trenkin, relax. Mars and I just want to be your friends for this little adventure.” Trenkin turned to his master.

“But we are, master,” was all he said before he fell to the ground, kneeling. “I try to do everything I can for you master. I will even cut my hands off to suit your pleas—” He looked up startled at the touch of Marsnick’s hand on his shoulder, but he was even more startled that both Marsnick and Lartorn were kneeling beside him.

“You have done a wonderful job,” Marsnick paused as he watched Trenkin tremble with pleasure at the praise given him. “But we, Lartorn and I don’t believe in everything the Klicch does. Especially this.” Marsnick pointed to the crescent on Trenkin’s forehead, the symbol of his slavery. “As far as I am concerned, we are equals Trenkin. Now we can live that way now we are outside of the Klicch’s law.”

Trenkin gave the two older boys a blank stare. “I get it, my lord. You are trying me, to test me of my loyalty.”

“No, not at all. If anything I have learned over the past few days it’s that you and I are both human. We are equals.” Marsnick paused to take a breath before delicately reaching over to Trenkin’s left ear and carefully removing the ring. “You are servant no longer.”

“Come on before we get soaked from this ground,” Lartorn grumbled and heaved the two other boys to their feet. “Let’s get some food.”

“All ri-right mast—I mean,” Trenkin swallowed, “Marsnick.”

But Marsnick wasn’t paying attention any longer. His gaze had strayed to a building barely visible in the approaching sunset. “Are my eyes playing tricks on me or is that a tavern?”

“We’ll never know until we go find out you know,” Lartorn said, nudging Marsnick. “Golly what I wouldn’t kill for a hot meal right now.”

Two days in the Wilds hadn’t overrun Marsnick’s life-trained sense of propriety, especially in unknown company. He stood up and brushed himself off as best he could before looking at his companions. “Well, what are you waiting for?” He grinned before sprinting ahead of the others. “Last one there buys drinks!” he roared over his shoulders.

Surprisingly, it was neither the long limbed Marsnick nor the ox-like Lartorn who made it to the tavern first. It was Trenkin.

“My lord, I believe that you buy the drinks!” Trenkin winked up at the wheezing Marsnick before leading them into the tavern.

“Well, looky what we have here, Orswan. If it ain’t a few runaways,” A wheezy man with only three teeth hollered to what could only be the tavern keeper.

“Hello boys, ignore old Ruuker’s there. He don’t mean any harm. What can I get fer you?” Orswan walked toward the three of them. “I have a good table near the hearth if you have the gold to pay fer it.”

Trenkin looked at Marsnick in askance before he set his bag down, looking for Marsnick’s money pouch. Deftly, he extracted three, silver coins half the size of his fist.

“I believe, sir that this should be plenty.” Orswan took the silver, bit it, and grinned, satisfied of their worth.

“All right boys, right this way.” Orswan led them to one corner of the smoke shrouded building, talking good heartedly to his other customers. “Here you are. But be careful to not disturb Asriam over there,” he gestured towards a man at the table next to them. As they passed by his table, the man glanced at them with green eyes. “He don’t take kindly to strangers. Letra! Come over here and get these boys some food,” he growled to a woman whose back was to the boys.

“Coming Ors,” she sighed before turning around.

Lartorn’s breath caught in his chest as he watched the woman coming closer, smoke giving way to her curving figure. Never before had he seen a woman so lovely as this Letra. He had always had plenty of pretty girls around, living in Marsnick’s manor, but never before had he seen one like this. She walked as if she was on a cloud, her hair the morning sun…

“Hello boys, what can I get you?” Letra said smiling. “Tonight we have some mutton stew, my personal favorite, or we have—”

“We’ll have that if you please, along with some of your finest cider,” Marsnick smiled up at her.

“All right, be just a moment.”

“Lartorn, stop gaping! It’s not like you have never seen a girl before.” Marsnick grinned at Trenkin. “Do you think he’s seen a girl before, Trenkin?”

“Well, I’d definitely say he’s smitten, my lord Marsnick.”

“Wake up buddy!” Marsnick gave a playful shove at Lartorn.

“She was like a…a vision. Did you two see her?”

“Yep, and here she comes again…Thank you miss,” Marsnick smiled as Letra set down the food. “My name is Mars, this is Trenkin and that lumbering ox over there is Lartorn.”

“Hello boys. My name, as I’m sure my father told you, is Letra. If there is anything else you need just give a holler and I’ll—”

“LEEEEEETTTTRRRRRRAAAAAA! O LEEEEETTRAA! WHERE ARE YOU?” The tavern went completely silent.

“Ike,” Letra said looking sick. “He’s back.”

“Who is Ike?” Lartorn asked, concerned.

“Not who, what,” Letra said as she gritted her teeth. “He’s a big brute who thinks that I belong to him.”
The tavern doors swung open as a huge man stomped in. Ors walked quickly over to the man, whispered something in his ear, and pointed to the corner where Letra stood. Ike grinned down at Ors before slapping him on the back, nearly knocking the man over. Ike lumbered towards Letra, not caring if he jostled a chair or two on the way. No one in those chairs protested of course but moved quickly out of the giant’s way.

“Ah, there you are my Letra,” Ike said in a low, husky voice, pulling the girl towards him. “Aren’t you going to welcome me home?”

“Let me go you big brute! By Grithel’s horn let me go!”

“Aww, come on!” Ike bellowed. “That’s no way to treat your man!” And with that he brought her up and kissed her mouth before plopping her back on the ground. Letra glared up at him in heated defiance then stared down at the floor.

“You are not mine,” she spat. “And you never will be! I don’t care what you or my loving father thinks!”
“Hey Ike! I think my little girl needs a good spanking, what about you?” Ors winked wickedly at his number one patron. Ike tossed him a gold coin and grinned back.
“I’ll count that as your permission then!” He roared and moved to pick up Letra.

“Unhand that woman,” a strong but quiet voice said. Lartorn’s voice. Ike just gaped down at the boy before laughing so hard the floorboards rattled.

“Did you hear that Ors! This puny little man-child wants to be a hero to my Letra! Hey, sonny-boy, mind your own business!” Ike tossed Lartorn a silver coin.

“No." He batted the coin aside.

Ike stopped laughing and was torn between anger and amusement at the boy. The former won. Ike set Letra down high up on the mantel. “What business is this of yours?” Ike spoke softly but there was fire in his eyes not unlike that which blazed in the hearth.

“You heard me, giant. Leave the girl alone.” Marsnick was caught between horror and pride at his friends' courage. Trenkin had no such problem. He was just terrified.

“You wish to poke your nose in another man’s business? That’s rather dangerous boy; curious but dangerous. Especially here, in this land,” a tall lanky man said as he stood. Even Ike took in a breath while Asraim spoke. “Ike, listen closely now. I suggest you do as the boy asks, he has a curious look about him.”

“Stay out of this, Asraim. Stay out or you will never come near here again,” Ors warned from across the room.

“Oh, don’t worry Orswan. I plan to stay out but I have also found what I’ve been looking for and will never come back to your tavern again.”

“QUIET! All of ya! This is between me and the boy. Look and learn my Letra!” Ike hollered.

“Trenkin, Mars—I need you to go over and help the lady down. I’ll deal with him,” Lartorn gestured up at Ike.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea La—” Trenkin started but Mars grabbed his arm and pulled him close to where Letra sat, high on her perch.

“Leave him be Trenkin. He knows what he’s doing. Letra, I want you to slowly ease yourself down into my arms, okay?”

“NO!” Ike growled. “Okay boy, you’ve had your fun. I just hope you know how to beg because I’m going to want to hear it.” Ike lunged at Lartorn but Lartorn quickly sidestepped Ike. He quickly grabbed a knife from his left boot before wheeling to face the giant. Now Lartorn was by no means small for his age, in fact, when Mars called him an ox, it was an accurate fit. Big and boxy for any man let alone a boy, he was actually quite fast and had seen his fair share of fights. So, when the rage-filled Ike ran at him again, Lars didn’t even think twice before nicking the giants’ neck with the blade. Not enough to do serious harm but enough to let Ike know that Lars knew what he was doing. Ike turned and tackled Lars, knocking the knife out of his hand and squishing the air out of his lungs. Lars stopped moving. Seemed to stop breathing even. Ike picked himself up, untangling himself from the body of the boy. Marsnick swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Any other objections about my girl?” Ike glared menacingly around the room, his gaze stopping on Marsnick and Trenkin. Trenkin was staring, horrified at Lars’ body. “I didn’t think so,” Ike turned to Letra. “Come on now. Come to your brute of a man.” Ike smiled unpleasantly.

“Go crawl back to your cave and die Ike! I never want to see your face again!” Letra hurled her words at the giant.

“If that’s the way you want it then, my pet. You shall never see anything until your mind is changed,” Ike grinned wickedly and dug around in his hip pouch. He grabbed a fistful of powder and flung it into a nearby mug. What had been Lartorn’s mug. Ike went and picked up Letra around her waist and took her to the table, kicking Lartorn’s body out of the way. He set her down on the table, careful to keep his hold on her. “Now, my Letra, open your mouth like a good girl.” Letra just glared at him. “Fine, your choice,” Ike pinched her side painfully between his callused forefinger and thumb. Letra gasped in pain. While her mouth was still open, Ike pinched her nose and rammed the mug against her mouth. Letra spluttered and would not swallow.

“C’mon Letra. Make this a little easier won’t you? Hey Ors, come and stop your girl from being so stubborn!” Orswan’s eyes opened wide and his whole frame shook with fear and concern for his only daughter, but he moved forward.

“Just hold this to her mouth why don’t ya!” Ike put Ors hand on the mug before purring, “Aww, little Letra, come on. Be a good little girl.” Ike’s hand gently stroked Letra’s throat, making her swallow. When the ale was all gone and the mug removed, Letra shrieked in pain. Ors pulled Letra to his chest and glared at Ike.
“Don’t worry old man! It’ll only last a minute or two. Then the pain will be gone and she won’t see a thing,” Ike gloated over Letra, who glared then her eyes lost all focus and she started whimpering. “Now my little pet,” Ike said softly, taking Letra out of her father’s grasp and setting her on his knees. “You have two choices. Either come with me and someday see again or live here with a father who traded you for some gold.” Ike stroked her hair, grinning triumphantly down at Ors.

“Actually, Letra,” a voice wheezed, “you have another choice.” Lartorn slowly stood up, using the wall for support.

“What the devil!” Ike cursed, spinning around with Letra still on his lap, holding on so she wouldn’t be thrown. Ike opened his mouth but what he was about to say was never heard. There was instead a soft thunk as a knife landed in Ike’s chest, barely missing Letra, who blocked Ike’s heart.

“Come now,” Asraim said in the silence. “You two, help her,” Asraim gestured at Trenkin and Marsnick before walking to where Lars had collapsed again into the corner. He swiftly picked the unconscious boy up and threw him over his shoulder. “Follow me,” was all he said.

Some time and distance later, Asraim directed the small party to set up camp for the night. He laid Lars gently onto a blanket before turning and helping Letra sit down.

“Stay here, all of you. Mars—right? Yeah Mars, you and that other boy start a fire I will go back for your things.” With that, Asraim strode out of the camp.

“Trenkin, will you gather some wood? I’m going to see if there is anything I can do to help Lartorn.”

“Yes,” the young boy started to bow then visibly forced himself to straightened. When Trenkin was hidden by the woods, Mars turned his attention to Lartorn. Letra was sitting still and silent as stone; her face stained with tears.

“Is he okay?” Her voice came out softly.

“He’ll live. He’s had worse,” Mars said as he straightened his friend. “It looks like he just has a few broken ribs. My friend, Trenkin, should be able to help him rest easy and heal quickly.”

“I do not mean to pry but now that I’m with you, who are you?”

“I’m sorry, my manners seemed to have been left back home. My name is Marsnick, son of Taringael whose power is second only to the Klicch,” He took a breath. “But everyone calls me Mars.”

“And the slave boy? I noticed the crescent.”

Marsnick’s voice went flat, “Trenkin. He was given to me by my father a few years ago. He thought I’d be so pleased.”