Grimstone: Chap 1, 2 & 3

1

         Drake laid still, he stared up at the azure sky, wisps of cloud floated along as they twisted and turned around each other like a fluffy white vine.

The bright orange sun was still high in the sky and beat down on his porcelain skin as he lay back in the soft green grasses in front of the Inn.
He could feel the blades of the cool grass between his toes relaxing him almost to the point of sleep, the dusty smell of the road running north toward Blackrock filled his nostrils and kept him from falling in to a mid-afternoon nap.

He blinked as a cloud revealed the full light of the sun flooding the vision of his olive eyes and causing the central golden rings in them to flash brightly.
Drake rolled over and looked back toward the building behind him, his wavy dark hair whipped about his face as a southerly breeze suddenly picked up in intensity.

Hanging above the doorway to the Inn a large wooden sign creaked as it swung gently back and forth in the wind, it in depicted upon dark ink was a scavenger bird of some sort, tearing at a small snake like creature held still by its curled black talons.

Just below the bird in a beautiful, flowing text were engraved the words: “The Ravens Nest”.

The Ravens Nest was built of a hard dark wood that had been lumbered from the surrounding woodland, leaving stumps and branches on the outskirts of the forest just visible from the windows of the Inn. The roof was simple enough; a hay and thatch peak and winding from the dirt road to the front door was a worn flagstone path with grass pushing up through the gaps in the heavy grey stones.

Despite its humble appearance the Inn had two levels and was larger than most city taverns. Its windows were basic wooden shutters and of those there were many, the rooms available for rent upstairs each had their own window, as well as a few other luxuries. In all the Ravens Nest wasn’t the worst place for a traveler in the area to reside, but it was far from a first choice, if one could help it.

The front door of the Inn swung open and a brightly dressed woman with dark, delicate features, poked her head out from within.

“Drake!” She called to her son in a loud tone, yet there was little urgency in her voice.
“Drake could you come inside please?”

Her long brown hair was the only part of her that Drake saw as it disappeared back inside, but Drake knew his Mother’s voice.
Groaning as he pushed himself to his feet he wondered what chore had been lined up for him this time.

“I bet the stable needs to be cleaned again…” He thought.
“It’s pointless anyway there’s hardly ever a horse in the bloody thing.”

He pondered as to what possible mess there could be to clean and stroked his upper lip in thought, he didn’t have any facial hair as he had barely seen more than thirteen summers, but evidently he had picked up the mannerism at some time in the Ravens Nest from a trader or mercenary.

Drake began to wander over to the Inn, preparing himself for whatever rudimentary task awaited him.

Before taking more than a few steps he had decided that if he was to be working this afternoon he best gather the few small tools he had collected over his short years and of course his boots, but they were both at home.

He would have to make a beeline for the hut.
Drake and his Mother lived in a small hut behind the Ravens Nest, which conveniently allowed his Mother to work whenever needed by the publican or patrons.

In reality the publican of the Ravens Nest, a stout old man called Jonah supported Drake and his Mother, despite the fair income provided by prostitution it did not quite cover the living expenses of a growing boy and his Mother.

Although the hut was very simple it was still what Drake knew as home and it was by far the place he felt most comfortable and safe in.  Arriving at the hut he flung the straw door open to the hut and quickly slipped on his boots. They were his only pair, but they weren’t of poor quality; a tough leather, from the skin of cattle or perhaps even a wild boar he’d thought upon occasion.

His clothing of course was a different story all together, Drake usually wore one of his few plain white shirts tied at the front with string of the same material and brown short pants which hung to just below his knees. They were simple to look at, but they did the job and Drake was grateful that he owned more than one of each; after all there were many people far worse off than him.

After grabbing his small hammer and knife from a basket beside his bed he dashed out the door at a half jog, he had become used to the idea of work over the years he had helped around the Inn and throughout those years he had learned one thing; the sooner you begin, the sooner you could finish.

Drake hurried along a thin track leading to the rear entrance of the Ravens Nest, and slipped in through the door. Inside the Ravens Nest the smell of ale and tobacco smoke hit Drake as he entered, it hung thick in the air and dust could be seen floating about as it passed through the rays of light pouring in from outside.
The floorboards were made of the same dark wood as the rest of the establishment and the furniture was similar. Scattered about the main room were many tables and chairs, and on each of them short, fat candles sat in small dishes unlit, a few paintings hung on the walls and an unhealthy looking plant stood in one corner.

A staircase directly to Drake’s left led upstairs to the bedrooms and next to that stretching almost to the other end of the Inn was the bar with Jonah sitting behind it, a few dirty mugs lay in front of him and bottles of various liquors were shelved above his head on the wall to his rear. Jonah was a large man, but almost as wide as he was tall; many years of tending the bar during more profitable seasons had earned him a rather large stomach and smoking his pipe, had given him a husky deep voice.

Jonah waved to Drake and called him to the bar, his chubby face, thick moustache and thinning gray hair shaking about as he did so. Drake had never quite understood why, but Jonah was always extra kind to him. Sure he had been punished in the past but the punishments were always fair, and Drake took them in his stride.

What confused Drake about Jonah was that he was almost like a Father to him some days, however on others he was ill tempered and wouldn’t stand for the slightest mishap on Drakes part. Perhaps Jonah was pushing him for a reason, but Drake had resigned to the idea that he was just moody.

“Drake.” Jonah spoke in his husky voice, crackling as he pronounced each word.
“I need to make a trip to Blackrock, our fortnightly delivery hasn’t arrived and it’s two days overdue.”

Drake sighed.

Deep inside him he knew what that meant, He was to accompany the old man in to town, it would take the rest of the afternoon to get there by cart and then he would have to stay the night. Drake detested the children in Blackrock.
They would tease him and call him names whenever they saw him; although he was taller than most children his age he was thin and wiry when compared to most, and they always took advantage of his weaker strength; he was definitely not looking forward to going to Blackrock.

“Now I know I gave that list to Roger…” Jonah spoke softer this time.
“I bet he’s totally forgotten, that moron drinks too much of his own wine at times.”

Jonahs face said it all, Roger the winemaker did drink too much and it was beginning to affect business for all the Taverns and Inns in the area.

“Do you really need me to go with you Jonah?” Drake pleaded with the old man.

“I’m sorry Drake, I need the extra hands and there isn’t anyone else. You will just have to put up with it.”

Jonah's voice became more stern, and Drake knew it was one of those things he simply couldn’t escape; he had better just do as he was asked.

“All right, but where is Rosalynne?”

Drake always called his Mother by name, in this place there weren’t many that could point you to your Mother, but most people knew where to find the pretty whore with the voluptuous lips.

The reply came swiftly.
“She’s with a customer at the moment, now come along, we have to pack the cart and ready the horses for travel, I’d like to get there before sundown if possible.”

With that said, Jonah rolled back the sleeves of his greying shirt and gathered a few notebooks from under the bar, he then stood up and led the way to the stables out the rear exit, Drake following along with a grim expression spreading over his face.

The stable roof was attached to the Inn on its northern wall, and there were fences of half height on all sides allowing owners to see their mounts from within the Inn. There were a few pens for the animals, a water trough and some riding equipment placed neatly in a corner of the straw covered floor.

It wasn’t much of a stable but it had the bare necessities. Drake immediately picked up the bridles and leathers for the horses and Jonah unlatched two of the five pen doors. Between the two of them, they had the horses ready for the trip to Blackrock within a few minutes and led them around to the side of the building where Jonah fastened each animals girdle to the cart.

         It wasn’t long before Drake and Jonah were slowly moving along the dirt road north toward the township of Blackrock. Jonah spurred the horses to a trot causing Drake to bounce up, whacking his behind on the hard wooden seat at the front of the old cart as he landed, Jonah chuckled to himself but said nothing and Drake just folded his arms staring blankly in to the distance, the forest ahead closed in around them as they traveled further down the road in to the woodland.

Far ahead of the pair the small township of Blackrock was still bustling with activity as the sun slowly began its descent behind the leafy treetops of the surrounding forest.
In the main street shopkeepers were still hawking their wares to passers by eager for that last sale of the evening.

A lampman monotonously pushed his cart around his route removing, filling and lighting the lamps high above him with a specially designed hooked rod. As each one was lit their eerie glow quickly spread across the darkening streets, the danced off the cobblestone like a flickering fire.

The Last Arms Tavern sat on the main street of Blackrock, a humble Tavern but it had served it's purpose since well before the Bounty Wars and it had developed a name for itself as being a rough establishment, after all you can only have so many fights and deaths inside a place before it develops a reputation.

The Tavern, having been built so close to the blacksmiths workshop often had a certain smell about it, that of smelting iron and of course wood smoke from not only the smithy but the large hearth on the far side of the large hall.

They had been traveling for over two and a half hours and neither Drake or Jonah had spoken more than a word to the other, there wasn’t a great deal to talk about as they saw each other almost every day, and the Ravens Nest wasn’t as lively as it once had been.

The dirt road had become more solid as they neared Blackrock, tracks caused from heavy wagons traveling along it ran up and down the road on each side, as it broadened wide enough for multiple caravans to fit side by side. Jonah was the first to speak out in a long while.

“Feeling a bit tired lad?” He glanced down at young Drake who looked as though he might be nodding off to sleep.

“What…? Oh!” Drake realized what Jonah had asked as he himself spoke.
“My legs could use a stretch yes…”

Drake yawned as Jonah pulled firmly on the reins of the horses, pulling them up to a stop.

“Well then, lets unpack a little food and we can let the horses rest here a while, we might as well have our evening meal right here.”

Jonah hopped down from the drivers seat of the cart and pulled a large pack from out of the back of it, talking to Drake as he did so.

“Walk the horses over to that patch of grass could you?”

Drake nodded without a word and began to lead them to where Jonah had pointed.

“And don’t forget to water them as well!”

A groan came from Drake, which Jonah simply laughed at.
“Alright, alright I’ll water them, you sit down and unpack the food.” He chuckled.

The pair exchanged places and Drake almost dropped to the ground, the ride in the cart wasn’t tiring as such, but through sheer boredom and the almost hypnotic effect of the up and down movement Drake’s leg muscles had stiffened and did need a stretch, as did his head muscles. He untied the pack to reveal a fair portion of cheese, bread and some dried, salted boar meat.

There was a water skin for himself and Jonah each, so he removed the stopper from his and drank long and deep for a few moments, refreshing him and waking him up somewhat. Drake returned the stopper to his water skin and slid his small knife from it’s home on his belt and began to cut even portions of the foods for each of them.

He was finished soon enough and he and Jonah sat down to one of the few simple pleasures enjoyed by a traveler whilst on the road, the evening meal.

The bread was hard and crunchy, just how Drake liked it but the cheese however was extremely pungent, forcing Drake to wrinkle his nose as he tried a piece. He almost choked as the sharp, dry flavour danced across his tongue to the back of his throat

“Yuck!” Drake spat the cheese out reaching for his water skin in agony from the taste of the well-aged cheese.

“You don’t like it then?” Jonah asked rhetorically, a wry grin faintly appearing across his face.

Drake fired a glance at him out of the corner of his eyes as he gulped down the soothing water. With that Jonah couldn’t resist, he burst out in delight slapping his hands on his knees as he did so and the booming sound of his laughter echoed throughout the forest surrounding them upon all sides.

Drake resigned to just eating the dried meat and bread, at least that didn’t taste like it had been left out in the sun for a month, in fact the salted meat was still a little moist, indicating it was rather fresh. He chewed monotonously on a piece as he let his mind wander, thoughts rarely ever entered his head unbidden but he had never liked leaving the familiar surrounds of the Ravens Nest, and his thoughts drifted back to his home and images flooded his mind of a little hut at the rear of the Inn.

         The bright sun sunk behind the mountains far to the west as the sky turned slowly from a wholesome blue to almost crimson red. Thick grey clouds were massing in the southern sky and Drake groaned heavily.

“We’ve still a fair ride to go Jonah and those clouds don’t look friendly in the slightest.”

Jonah turned his head looking behind him at the storm clouds racing toward them.
“You’re right as usual Drake, we’d best pick up our pace. Perhaps we can beat the rain if we push the horses hard.”

With a crack of the reins the beasts pulling the small cart jumped forward with a start and almost at a run moved quickly down the dirt road. The pair raced down the road toward Blackrock with the storm gaining rapidly on them like a hound on a hare, lightning and thunder exploding in the sky behind them like a volcano bursting open the earth for the first time.

The cart bounced wildly as the horses raced along the now muddy road and Jonah clutched the reins guiding them safely toward Blackrock. The storm was biting at their heels now, the rain was pelting down at them almost hard enough to leave a bruise and the heavy winds swept up leaves and small twigs just to send them whistling past the two of them.

“Jonah!” Drake yelled over the sounds of the storm and horses.
“Jonah, what’s that?”

He pointed up ahead and to the side of the road, Jonah tugged on the reins slowing the horses somewhat.

“Where Drake?” Jonah peered forward, straining his old eyes.

Drake pointed again as they neared what looked like a small cart, similar to their own, it was sitting on the side of the road covered in mud and one of it’s wheels was broken off.

“Whoa!” Jonah cried, pulling hard on the reins as they passed the damaged cart but the horses kept on running. Jonah pulled harder this time snapping the horses heads back suddenly, they seemed to understand this time and stopped dead in their tracks.

“Stupid animals…” Jonah grumbled as he hurriedly jumped down from the drivers seat splashing in a small puddle as he hit the ground
“Drake, come on! Lets see what’s happened, they might need a hand!”

With that Drake hopped out of the cart and ran over the join Jonah, together they pushed back against the fierce storm to where they had seen the damaged wagon.

“Drake!” He could barely hear Jonah’s booming voice over the storm as he called his name.
“Drake, look here…”

Drake moved over to where Jonah was standing and looked down at what had caught his attention. “Interesting, don’t you think?”

Drake could only nod. Looking down at the cart he could see now that one wheel was severely damaged, almost all of the spokes holding it together were snapped and there were large pieces of the cart missing all over, what was left of it was splintered and looked curiously like it had been chewed.

“What could have done this?” He looked back up at Jonah who was looking just as confused as Drake.

“I… I’m not sure, its teeth must’ve been…” Jonah, thinking aloud began mumbling and caught himself quickly.
“Whatever it was Drake; it was powerful.”

The pair stared down at the broken wheel for a moment lost in thought and now entirely soaked through from the rain. Jonah walked a full circle around the cart, he was looking extremely puzzled before he stopped and scratched his moustache.

“I don’t understand, where are the crates and barrels?” Drake followed Jonah around to the back of the cart and sure enough, not a trace of a barrel or crate remained. Now Drake looked confused.

“But… didn’t you say whatever the animal was it was big? It would’ve broken the load trying to get it open...”

Drake glanced around somewhat cautiously, after all the animal certainly hadn’t waited around, it was still out there. Jonah stood motionless for a moment lost in thought.
“Big… No, but powerful… definitely.” 

As he wandered back over to their cart he called out to Drake.
“Come on, there’s nothing we can do here…”

Jonah was already climbing on board before Drake finally ran over to join him.
“What’s wrong lad…?” Jonah asked him in between gushes of wind.

Drake didn’t reply, he was staring directly ahead of them far in to the dark wet night.

“Drake!” Jonah yelled loud enough to startle Drake.

“What!?” Drake turned suddenly having been pulled from his thoughts.

“What is the matter with you today, you’re not with me are you...”

Drake waved off the idea, “No, no… I was just thinking, sorry.”

“Well, alright…” Jonah spurred the horses in to a trot.

“I suppose we’ll be late getting to town now. I hope that woman at the Last Arms is awake, I’m not looking forward to night in the stables.”

Drake groaned heavily at the prospect of sleeping in the stables but the effect was lost in the chaos of the surrounding storm, he himself used to sleep in the stables back at the Ravens Nest. That was when he was a little younger and his Mother used their hut for business purposes. Still, he never did get used to sleeping on the hay alone with the animals.

As though the idea had just slapped him in the face, Drake suddenly burst out.
“Do you think that could’ve been Roger’s cart Jonah?”

Jonah looked down at him grimly.
“I hope not lad, although come to think of it I do remember Roger owning something similar… but I certainly hope not.”

He said the last softer, clearly concerned, Drake silently agreed with him, settling in for the remainder of the ride to Blackrock.

Three hours after sundown they finally arrived in Blackrock, they had resigned to being drenched already and found little point in risking injury to the animals; they had taken the remainder of the journey at a slow pace.

A single guardsman bearing a torch called out to them before walking over.

“Ho the wagon!” He yelled over the rain.
“Where might you be headed at this hour old man?”

If Jonah looked displeased at being called old he showed no sign.
“To the Arms. “ he replied
“We’re staying the night and returning south to the Raven’s Nest in the morning…”

The guard waved them along, seemingly happy with an old man and lad to stay the night in his town.
“Best hurry along then, the doors aren’t open all night down here like in the cities.”

Jonah waved behind him as he spurred the horses along once more toward the Last Arms Tavern.

They arrived at the Tavern and Jonah guided the small wagon to a stop outside a simple stables. A stable boy about the same age as Drake strolled out at a leisurely pace, all three together unhitched the horses without saying a word. Drake knew the boy, whilst he didn’t really involve himself in teasing Drake, he was more than happy to laugh along with the mob as Drake was mocked.

When everything was packed back in to the cart, Drake led one horse and the stable boy the other, Jonah headed inside to acquire accommodation for the night.

“Jonah!” The barmaid and wife of the owner of the Arms called out to him as he entered.

“Martha! Good evening”
Smiling warmly Jonah sat at the bar and ordered himself a large ale.

“One hell of a night out there isn’t it” Martha poured a pitcher of ale whilst still holding conversation.

“You don’t know the half of it… By chance...” Jonah inquired
“Have you seen Roger lately? That’s why I’m here. He hasn’t arrived with his delivery again…”

Jonah retold of their roadside discovery, as he recounted the events his mood made a change for the worse. In the retelling, he had made the connection between the cart they had found and Roger’s. It was almost certain to be the winemakers.

Drake had fallen asleep leaning against him as he spoke with Martha and was now snoring softly, Jonah glanced down and then with a nod of his head to Martha he scooped Drake in to his arms and walked toward the staircase. He turned back a moment and with a grim look on his round face, forced a smile to the barmaid before continuing up the creaking old stairs to bed.

2

         A shrouded figured sat against the far wall of the circular cavern, a lone candle sitting opposite him illuminated only his dark robes creating an eerie effect of lifelessness.
The cavern, deep beneath the mountains had been carved directly in to the rock, and had been inscribed on all faces with countless ancient symbols and texts.

The figure sat motionless, musing over piece of parchment sitting on his lap. A voice suddenly came from the entrance as another figure, dressed in similar robes entered the cavern.

“My Lord… we await your word, the Acolytes are becoming quite anxious.”
He spoke in a deep firm tone, with a fluid pronunciation.

The shrouded Lord remained motionless in the corner, looking over the parchment once more before folding it in half and looking up.
“We do nothing.” He handed the parchment to his subordinate.

“My Lord… Nothing?” He questioned his superior hesitantly.

“Yes. Nothing. We have what… two sightings?” The shrouded Lord spoke in a matter of fact tone.
“And they were during the night from a farmer and his son. After almost ten years? Perhaps if these sightings were from a more credible source I might feel obliged to investigate further. The matter is to be disregarded until further notice.”

With a wave of his hand he indicated for the Acolyte to leave him, as he turned to do so the shrouded figure spoke once more.
“However… be sure to report any further findings in relation to the matter directly to me.”

“Of course, Lord Grimstone.” The acolytes voice was almost a whisper as he replied before turning and leaving the dark cavern.

“Kaurag.” Lord Grimstone spoke softly. “I have a task for you.”

From across the cavern a third dark robed figured stepped out from the shadows,
“My Lord?” He spoke in a husky voice.

“Kaurag, I wish you to investigate this…issue. Keep it quiet.”

Kaurag had worked in this manner for his Lord for many years and was a master at the art of discretion.

“My Lord, I will not fail you.”

“Excellent, you are to head east, make for the township of Blackrock, I will await your return. Hunt well.”

Kaurag left swiftly without speaking a word and hurried down a corridor just outside the entrance to the cavern.

3

         Drake jumped out of his bed.

"Jonah!" He cried out as he realized he was wearing his clothes still and that he had obviously fallen asleep shortly after arriving.
“Jonah, I’m sorry…”

He stopped short of apologizing as he looked over to where the large man should have been laying and noticed Jonah wasn’t there.
With a skip he dashed out of the room and downstairs, it was a few hours past sunrise, yet the inn was already operating and had a few customers sitting along the bar breaking their fast.

“Martha…” Drake peered around until he found the barmaid, she was wandering aimlessly around with little to do, the room was ready for the business of the day and the few customers already there were content.

“Martha… where’s Jonah?” Drake had a look of worry in his eyes, Martha could tell he was concerned; she ruffled his hair and offered a warm smile.

“Not to worry little one, he’s just gone out for a little while he should be back…”

She didn’t get to finish the sentence, as the door to the inn swung open and the heavyset Jonah stepped through.

“Ah Drake, I thought you’d sleep a while longer m’lad, sorry I just…”
He hesitated a moment, looking everywhere but directly at Drake.

“Just went to the market to pick up a few things I’ve been meaning to replace.”
It wasn’t a lie, but Jonah had also been to visit Roger the winemakers home. His wife had informed him that Roger had indeed been on time for his delivery and that she was worried he hadn’t returned yet.
Jonah had thought it best not to mention the cart on the roadside until he had discovered more.

Drake eyed him curiously, sensing Jonah wasn’t telling him something and thought for a moment to ask, but he didn’t know what the question was, Jonah continued talking before Drake could consider it.

“Drake, we need to visit the constables office, come along you can break your fast on the way.”
Jonah tossed an apple over to the boy, and whispered in Drake's ear as thought it were a secret.

“We’ll get you something a bit sweeter in the market.”

Drake grinned one of his rare grins and allowed Jonah’s large hands to hurry him through the door, all but forgetting about his feeling that Jonah was keeping something from him.

They pushed slowly through the growing morning crowd; families were now working their way through the market and hawkers calling out their wares to them.

Blackrock had few beggars, but the morning and evening was when they were most profitable and they too had begun their work for the day.

An elderly man with ragged, torn clothing stared up at Drake as he passed by, one eye closed over and the other a pale blue, almost white. He mumbled something and pulled away, Drake noticed his eye and thought it strange that a blind man would pull away as anyone passed.
Although the reaction seemed odd it bothered him little, as he had grown up at the Ravens Nest he was used to all manner of curiosities.

         It took the better part of an hour to push their way through the crowds to the constable’s office, Jonah had bought a sweet pastry from a stall for both himself and Drake, which Drake was eagerly finishing off as they arrived.
The constabulary was a single story, bluestone building, it had iron barred windows either side of the solid oak front door and a flat roof.

Jonah turned to Drake quickly spoke.
“I think you should stay outside for a while ok?”

Drake could only nod as he finished the remaining piece of his pastry, he had been back handed many times for talking with his mouth full and the lesson had stuck.

Drake stood around aimlessly, staring in to the bustle of the mid morning traffic of Blackrock.

He dropped his head down and kicked at a loose pebble on the road and wandered over to the wall of the constabulary.

“Oww!!” A short, sharp cry of pain sounded over the noise of the market and suddenly Drake found himself on the ground.

“What was…”
Drake’s words were cut off by a fist smashing straight in to his mouth, his eyes watered and he had the taste of iron in his mouth as his tongue sliced open on his teeth.

He sat dazed on the ground a moment, but suddenly thinking clearly Drake leapt to his feet and met his assailant face to face,
A large boy no older than Drake stood in front of him, both fists up around his face in a poor imitation of a fighter’s stance.

“You threw that stone at me you little…beggar boy!”

Drake recognized the voice before his eyes stopped watering enough to see him, it was Daniel, son of the Blacksmith.
Drake groaned as he realized, as wherever Daniel was, the rest of his gang weren’t far behind.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t throw it…” Drake tried to talk loud and strong between gasps from the shock of being hit.

“Whaddya mean ya did’na throw it?”
Another voice spoke up in anger, Timothy, he was son of the Tinker in town and had grown up around Daniel.

Drake backed up and raised his hands, shaking his head.

“I just kicked it… I… didn’t see you there… I’m sorry Daniel...”

“You’re sorry? You will be…” Daniel stepped forward menacingly.

“and what’re you gonna do about it?” Daniel grinned and his eyes lit up, piercing through Drake and instilling fear.

Daniel drew back a fist and laughed.
“You’re as thin as a rake! Drake the rake!!”

The small group behind him immediately started a chant.

“Drake the rake! Drake the rake!”

Daniel was about to throw his punch when a softer lighter voice cried out.

“Leave him alone Daniel Smitherson!”
A young girl came running through the crowd of people, her long blonde hair trailing behind and deep green eyes set in a menacing glare.

The diminutive figure of the girl pressed through the mob of boys and stood between Daniel and Drake, pointing a finger at the bully blacksmith’s son.

“Stop that!” She cried at him.

She wasn’t an imposing figure, but most of the boys in town had a deep crush on the young girl, a fact that she often used to her advantage.
Daniel’s cheeks flushed red and the gang behind him lowered their heads, mumbling amongst themselves.

As the girl spun around to Drake, a lock of hair slapped Daniel in the face causing him to lower his gaze and the firey energy within him to diminish.
Drake followed suit and lowered his eyes, embarrassed not only to be fighting in front of a girl, but to be saved by her as well.

Drake saw a long, tanned arm reached out and soft warm fingers cradled Drake’s jaw, lifting his head up.
His eyes locked with hers and he was immediately was lost in their deep, caring, warmth.

“You’re alright now…” She glanced back a moment to watch the gang of young ruffians walking away.
“They’ve gone. Now let me look at that.”

Drake tried to pull away from the her touch as she forced his mouth open to inspect the cut, but found his feet planted firmly on the ground.

“It’s only small, but there’s a lot of blood. Don’t worry it’ll be fine.”

Again Drake felt embarrassment and for the first time truly looked at his savior, she was quite pretty, short in height and had a lithe, fit body. Her deep tanned skin and blonde hair contrasting with her sparkling green eyes.

Drake suddenly remembered himself and stood up straight.
“I’m sorry miss, to trouble you like that.” He almost whispered to her.
“I…I would’ve been okay, it’s just… they’re always like that, you get used to it.”

At that the girl shook her head emphatically and took Drake by the hand.
“No, no.”
“You should never put up with that, my Daddy says to never let anyone push you around.”

Again Drake lowered his eyes, he had always let people push him around, after all what could he do about it.

The girl’s voice took on an air of authority as she spoke.

“Come along… My name’s Taryn Miller, my Father is a trader, we’ve just recently moved here from Northward, what’s your name?”

Taryn’s eyes met with Drake’s again as she began to pull him along and smiled a soft warm smile at the young boy.

“My name’s Drake.” He stopped and looked back toward the constabulary.
“But, I can’t go, Jonah… he’s in there, I have to wait for him.”

At that Taryn raised an eyebrow, curiosity etched in her face. Drake suddenly realized what she must have been thinking.

“Oh! No… Jonah just said we have to talk to someone here, we found a cart on the roadside last night and…”
Drake began to retell of their previous night and the two children sat down to wait for Jonah to return.

*    *    *

         “Well we’ll certainly have to take a look, although other than that there’s not much we can really do until then I’m afraid.”

The constable shrugged as he finished talking.

“Very well…” Jonah sighed.
“I’d best be along then, thank you constable.”

The lawman sat down at the wooden desk of his office and with a sigh signed off on the report the Innkeeper had given him.

“William!” He called out to one of the town watchmen.
“I need you to gather up a few lads for a trip down south, we’ll need about two days I think so ready the provisions.”

He looked over at the duty roster pinned on the far wall.

“I’d best make a few changes, we can’t have young Francis running the show for two days, no that just won’t do…”

*    *    *

         Drake, Jonah and Taryn spent the rest of the morning and afternoon wandering the marketplace of Blackrock.

Jonah was quiet for the most part except when pointing out this item or that for sale at the various vendors, but as the two children talked about the small intricacies of their lives and joked together a smile would creep on to the old man’s face.

They shared a midday meal of beef pie together by the stone fountain, it wasn’t the greatest meal any of them had experienced, but everyone was content with company of one another.

“Taryn Miller!”
A voice called out over the bustle of the marketplace.
“Where have you been girl?”
A stout little man came hurrying over, his thin dark moustache and short-cropped hair, combined with the comical waddle of his chubby frame caused both Drake and Taryn to giggle.

“I’ve been looking for you…” He shook his head; he could never stay mad at his little girl.

Taryn jumped up from the fountain and ran over to her father, allowing his arms to wrap around her tightly.

Before he could ask, Taryn began introductions.
“Daddy… this is my new friend Drake and that’s Jonah.”

She gestured to each of them in turn before beaming a smile up at her father.

A smile crept on to Drake’s face as he was introduced as her friend. He had never been called a friend of anyone’s before.

“Well…uhm…” The stout little man stuttered as he spoke, not quite sure if he liked these people.
“A pleasure to meet you both.” His voice took on a different tone, a practiced speech, learned from trading many years in varying townships.

He walked over with his daughter’s hand in his to shake the man and boy’s hand.
“My name is Darnian Miller, and since you seem to already have earned the affection of my young daughter here…”

He smiled down at Taryn, then back at them both.
“I am inclined to respect her judgment. She has her father’s talent for assessing folk you know.”

Taryn groaned, her father always did this. Praised him-self through her, but he was a lighthearted man despite being shrewd enough in business.

“I am a trader as Taryn here no doubt informed you.” Darnian continued.
“We’ve recently moved here from up in Northward.”

Jonah smiled slightly at that, he knew the town and respected most people from it, Northward was a frontier town even more so than Blackrock and thus people relied upon each other, trust was essential when so far from the coast.

“The pleasure is mine, Darnian.” Jonah received his hand and shook firmly.

“As your daughter introduced me, I am Jonah. Owner and proprietor of The Raven’s Nest, down south.”

A glimmer of approval flickered through Darnian’s eyes, not only was this Jonah a potential customer, he knew the Raven’s Nest by reputation and it was well deserved. By all reports Darnian was now looking upon one of the original members of the Ravens of Blackrock.

The stories had circulated across most of the eastern world; The Ravens during their era were folk heroes. They had fought hard during the Bounty Wars, pressing far in to marshland of the Goblinoid held territories.

The Ravens of Blackrock, as with many other mercenary companies were formed almost thirty years previous. Marauding Orcs and Goblins were raiding up the coast, razing every human town to the ground.

After the small armies of the Kingdom were routed by the alien guerilla tactics employed by their foes, the Duke and his advisors had been forced to re-evaluate the effectiveness of their soldiers.

After much deliberation, the old Duke, Julian Raynar, declared all Goblinoid people brigands. A bounty was placed upon their heads and word was spread.
The hope was that perhaps with smaller companies of men, spread throughout the southern lands, the humans could meet their enemies on as broad a front as they were being assaulted upon.

Many men, both soldiers and civilian saw this as a chance to make their fortune.
A large number of them did, however most did not and even fewer survived to spend more than a few pieces of silver.

The Raven’s of Blackrock however, prospered. After more than ten years of warfare, returning the favour of guerilla tactics deep behind enemy lines, the Ravens were rich enough to build an outpost of their own.

They positioned their war camp south of the town of Blackrock, yet close enough to the southern marshes to answer any call to arms that was made.

They called this place, The Raven’s Nest.

         “Come along Taryn, we must be off, you know we’re to make a trip back up to Northward. Your mother and I have finished packing the wagon.”

Darnian thanked Jonah for keeping an eye on his daughter and promised to visit the Raven’s Nest sometime in the near future. Drake’s eyes locked with Taryn’s sparkling green momentarily as she waved back to him, before the pair disappeared in to the press of people.

“We’d best be back to the Arms too Drake.” Jonah glanced down at the boy.
Noticing the smile on Drake’s face fade, Jonah piped up again.
“Don’t worry lad. You’ll see her again soon, I promise.”

At that Drake cheered slightly, his deep brown eyes lit up and the smile he had been wearing all afternoon returned as Jonah led them back to The Last Arms Tavern.

4

         Drake pushed the rear door of the Raven’s Nest open and stepped out in to the midday sun.

He had been helping Jonah tally the stock collected from Blackrock with the old stock still remaining in the storeroom and it had taken all morning.

“Finally!” He thought, and ran down the path to the small hut at the rear of the Inn.

Check back soon for chapter 4 of Drake's adventures...