Aaron's World Chapter 3 : The Prisoner

Chapter 3: The Prisoner

‘That was a great punch Aaron.’

Damond chortled as he took another sip of his beer.

‘Cheers!’

The two friends toasted each other as they sat in Aaron’s cosy kitchen reliving the events of the day. Aaron’s mother had been overjoyed at news of his apprenticeship despite the general muddiness about what he would be doing, and seeing as they would soon be officially declared men she had poured them both an after-dinner beer in celebration.

‘You haven’t been getting in trouble with those older lads again have you Aaron?’ His mother had overheard them from the next room.

‘No mother!’ Aaron replied innocently.

His mother, Sarah, walked in humming to herself. She had brought him up whilst working in an Inn next door called the Unicorn. His father had been taken in a plainsmen raid when Aaron was very young. Sarah took pride in her appearance, long dark curls cascaded almost to her waist and her eyes sparkled with a love of life. She was also a fine artist and sold paintings when they needed the extra money, but most of her pieces adorned the walls of their humble home.

‘Let’s take these beers outside Aaron, it’s a beautiful night’ Damond said diffusing any trouble before it could begin.

They took their beers and walked outside. The air was cool and crisp but not unpleasantly cold. Aaron let out a deep satisfied sigh and took a big gulp of his beer. Behind the house was a small grove of ash and beech trees, between which he and Damond had strung up two hammocks. Settled comfortably, beers in hand, they swayed from side to side and looked up at the night sky in silence.

Aaron gazed up and lost himself in the glorious stellar tapestry that spread itself from horizon to horizon. Hundreds of stars blazed down at him as they had done for thousands of years, wheeling about night after night yet remaining unchanged. Aaron felt his mind drift into a profound state.

‘I wonder Damond, if men have always looked up at these stars and had the same thoughts’ said Aaron solemnly.

The two friends sat in silence for a while swaying on their hammocks and thinking. Aaron felt almost blinded by the stars; they were all he could see. He was swimming in a field of glowing pinpricks, drifting along in the silent cosmos, at peace.

‘Do you think my father still looks up at the night sky?’ Aaron said at last. He had never been able to accept that his father was dead. When he was a boy he would often dream of him returning and taking him away on some incredible adventure.

‘I am sure he did once Aaron.’ Damond said quietly. ‘Someone once told me that all time is an illusion. If that’s true then looking up at the stars makes us one with all those who did it before us, including him.’

‘So we never have to be alone…’

‘Shush’ Damond cut him off. ‘What’s that?’

Aaron twisted around in his hammock and looking down the dark hillside could just about make out something coming along the main street from the Town gate. All he could see from this distance were flickering torch lights and what looked like a large horse drawn carriage. Aaron sprung up and ran inside as fast his legs would carry him, up into to his room and back again with his spyglass.

It had two lenses at each end of a leather cylinder, which allowed the user to see distant objects as if you were standing close by. It had been a present from his mother for his last birthday. Normally they would never have been able to afford such a luxury but his mother had told him not to worry: it had been brought across the mountains by traders and lost in a game of dice in the Unicorn. Aaron treasured it.
By the time he returned panting for breath, Damond had clambered out of his hammock for a better look and Aaron rested the spyglass on his friend’s shoulder, as he tried to breathe slowly and focus on what he was seeing.

‘It’s a prison carriage!’ he exclaimed. The torches were carried by guardsmen flanking a reinforced box pulled by four horses. But it was hard to focus on the torches in the darkness and every few seconds they were hidden by taller buildings on the hillside.

‘They must be heading for the prison. I wonder who the prisoner is. He must be important to be moved at night!’

‘Let’s follow! See if we can catch a glimpse!’ Damond’s said excitedly.

Everyone else was abed at this hour so there was no one to see the two boys scurrying silently down the road.  As they walked down the hill the housing got poorer and more dilapidated and for a minute the carriage was lost from sight. But hurrying to reach the junction they saw it again ahead of them.
‘Get down!’ whispered Aaron sharply as they rounded the corner. The carriage was only a short distance ahead and the flickering torchlight fell only a few meters short of their feet.

The convoy of guardsmen moved rapidly. The boys followed as close behind as they dared, through the merchant district of closed shops and empty market places. Finally they came to the canal-bridge that led to the prison. The bridge was down. Aaron and Damond peered around the side of the nearest building (an old apocathary whose owner mixed up mysterious herbal remedies for virtually any minor affliction), Aaron squatting down and Damond leaning on his back to look round the corner.

The prison was well lit by the yellow glow of oil lanterns and Aaron could clearly see the face of the prisoner as he was removed from his portable cell. What he saw drew a gasp from his throat: The face he saw was deeply tanned from the sun and smeared with desert dirt but it was unmistakably his own!

‘What the heck?’ exclaimed Damond, ’He looks just like you!’

‘Who’s there? Declare yourselves!’ The guards had heard their voices.

Damond stumbled backwards but Aaron stood there stupefied. Then for an instant his eyes joined those of the prisoner and a jolt of realisation shot through him: He must get away! He sprinted back around the side of the apocathary and back down the alleyway that lead into the merchant district. Behind him he heard the clatter of armoured pursuit. Aaron stopped for moment to call for his friend

‘Damond, where are you?’

‘Stop there!’

Two guards had turned the alleyway corner behind and spotted him. Aaron sprinted away going left then right then right again grazing his palms as he slowed himself on the walls, turning the corners at breakneck speed. The alleyways got steadily narrower and away from the light of oil lanterns he found himself having to anticipate how and where his feet would land. He half ran, half stumbled around another corner and was suddenly bowled over by someone coming the other way.

‘Joy!’ Aaron exclaimed as he rubbed his head and sat up

‘Ouch! That hurt.’ Joy pushed her red hair out of her eyes. ‘Aaron! What are you doing here?’

Aaron realised that his panicked run had brought him into a wider street, right to the door of the brewery owned by Joy’s father. A year Aaron’s junior, Joy looked as she always did; dishevelled but beautiful. Long auburn hair framed blue eyes in a mischievous face that had not long changed from child to adult.

‘Quick I need to hide!’ The shouts of the guards were getting closer.
Joy looked at him curiously as she picked herself up from the cobbled street.

‘What did you do?’

‘There’s no time! I’ll tell you later, I promise!’

Joy seemed to enjoy having Aaron on the spot but as the sounds of pursuit echoed closer she took his hand and led him through a small side door into the brewery, bolting the door behind them. Stone steps lead them downwards into a dark cellar. The only light was a streamed from the gap below the door, through which Aaron peered expectantly.

A squad of guardsmen in leather armour, wearing swords and insignia came to a wheezing halt outside. The captain placed one hand on his heaving stomach.
‘Continue the pursuit!’ he shouted breathlessly. He then turned and made towards the brewery front door and disappeared out of Aaron’s view.

Then they heard a gauntleted fist on the front door. A few seconds later and steps on the floor above beat a path to the door. Muffled conversation followed, the captain’s voice was joined by the gruff tones of Bernard, Joy’s father.

Aaron squeezed his eyes tight and willed the captain away with his whole being. After what seemed an eternity, he heard the door above close and opened his eyes letting out his pent up breath in one go.

‘Relax Aaron,’ Joy whispered in his ear, ‘the old sod probably only wanted a beer!’
Joy moved away for a second and fumbling in the darkness lit an oil lamp which Aaron now saw stood on a wooden table in the centre of the room. The room had barrels of ale stacked against every stone wall save the one opposite where a ramp rolled up to a door leading into the house.

‘Don’t worry father won’t come down here at this time of night.’ Then Joy looked at him quizzically. ‘Now tell me what you’ve been up to and why I wasn’t included!’

‘It was a spur of the moment thing’ Aaron was slightly taken aback. Joy and he had been friends awhile but as they had grown up awkwardness had appeared between them, made worse by Aaron’s feud with her half-brother, Usale.

‘Damond and I followed a prison convoy and we got a look at the prisoner they held. He looked like a tribal leader. There was something else, something so familiar about him …’ Aaron tailed off, his memory confused about exactly what he had seen.

‘Wow!’ Joy’s eyes lit up. ‘And the guards saw you and chased you here! Listen Aaron, I am sorry about Usuale. I heard about what he and his friends did. He is such a bully, he deserved to be hit and I told him so!’ Joy was like that; her conversation was as changeable as mountain weather. That was one of the things that Aaron liked most about her.

‘I think he has the idea that you and I are ‘an item’’ She said
Aaron was glad of the dim lighting as his face coloured
.
‘Are we?’ Joy’s question was equal parts playful and demanding. Where did she learn to do that? Aaron thought.

He started to reply and felt a spark between them. Before he knew what was happening Joy’s lips were on his and his whole world changed. After a time in blissful limbo they broke apart breathing deeply. Then the moment was shattered by the sounds of heavy footsteps from the house above.

‘Joy, are you down there?’ then ‘Where are you girl!?’ It was her father and he sounded like he was right outside the cellar door.

‘The guards are gone!’ Joy threw open the door to the night air, looking once to the right and left and then pulled Aaron out into the street.

‘We’ll speak again tomorrow at your egg day.’ Joy blew him a kiss and then planted another on his lips before rushing back inside.

‘Hi father, I was just getting some air. Was that a guardsman at the door just now?’

         Her voice faded as she closed the door behind her. What a cunning creature she was! Aaron thought admiringly. He turned away humming to himself and made for the nearest dark alleyway. Now where had Damond got to?

As Aaron walked away a pair of murderous eyes looked down on him from the bedroom window above. Usale muttered darkly as he watched Aaron disappear into the shadows.

That night Aaron tossed and turned, he couldn’t sleep and when the long awaited oblivion finally came; he found his head filled with nightmarish visions. He woke up with a start, soaked with sweat. Startled he grasped his egg stone where it lay against his chest. It glowed brightly and felt hot to the touch. Someone or something was trying to warn him but what? For a moment the stone flared brightly and then died, leaving his vision swimming in darkness with the white afterimage seared on his mind.

Too disturbed to go back to sleep, Aaron crept down stairs to the kitchen and got some water. He splashed his face and gulped down the rest. It was then, as his heart ceased its erratic pounding and his breathing calmed, that he saw a glowing through the kitchen window. Looking up he peered out into the inky night, down the hill covered in stone houses, across the merchant district of shops and mansions to the dark arrow of the canal. Beyond it raged a fire. From this distance he couldn’t see whether heroic firemen were beating it back, or if it would spread to consume all in its path. But one thing he knew instinctively was where it started – the prison. The wild plainsman with Aaron’s face had broken free and unleashed his wrath on his captors.

Aaron watched fascinated as the wind drove the fire to and fro, until the rain came down dousing its fury and Aaron saw that it would spread no further. Exhausted Aaron crawled back to bed and this time, slept soundly.