Free Fiction Tuesday! A Fine Line: Part 7
Posted by alisonsky on April 13, 2010
Thank you to everyone who has continued to come back to read the ongoing adventure. I hope you are enjoying the tale. Please remember to feel free to comment and let me know what you think. Are the chapters too short? Too long? Let me know so I can make the future chapters more enjoyable.
That said, here’s the next chapter in the story of Herrick and Price. You can imagine where Price is going to turn to for help, but what kind of reception is he going to get from Herrick after what the Order did? Let’s find out.
Enjoy!
A Fine Line
By Alison Sky
Part 7
Cold water thrown on his face woke Herrick out of his dreamless sleep. For a moment, he thought it was Vesa trying to sober him up. Yet, when he opened his eyes, he was looking into the face of Lars, one of the local woodcutters.
Herrick jumped to his feet, and instantly regretted it as his legs swayed under him. Lars grabbed his arm, steadying him. “Thanks,” Herrick said. When he got his balance, he looked around the room. “Where did they go?”
“They disappeared into the woods.”
“Herrick!”
Herrick turned and saw Cairan lying on the ground in a large puddle of his own blood. The men who had been frozen in the inn were now kneeling around him, giving him whiskey and trying to stop the bleeding with the tablecloths. Herrick went and knelt beside the big man.
“They took Vesa?” Cairan asked. His eyes were clouded and he didn’t focus on anything in particular.
“Yes.”
“You must get her back.” Cairan tried to stand but he was weak and didn’t make it more than a few inches off the ground. Herrick placed a hand on the big man’s shoulder to keep him still. “She’s all I have left, and she shouldn’t have to pay for my mistakes.”
“What mistakes?”
“A battle – one that never should have happened.” Cairan’s eyes drifted closed. “When you find Vesa… tell her I love her.” And with that, the last breath Cairan would ever draw was released.
Herrick held back the tears that threatened to flow as he realized that all the eyes of the men were watching him. Setting a stern face, he turned to face them.
“Lars, go upstairs and find a proper outfit for Cairan to be buried in.” The man nodded and left.
“You four work on digging a grave outside near the family plot for him.”
“Someone needs to run to the stonecutter and get a headstone.”
“… and you inform the villagers and any other family he might have.”
After assigning all the jobs that he could think of, Herrick found himself alone with Cairan’s body. He found he couldn’t look at the dead man, so instead he started to pick up the overturned chairs and tables to make the place presentable again. When he was almost done, Lars returned with a soft tunic and pants, and a beautiful silk cape. “These were his favorites,” Lars explained.
“They’re perfect. Help me lift him onto the long table so we can dress him.”
Lars and Herrick lifted Cairan, then stripped him of the bloody clothing and dressed him in the nice ones. When they were done, Lars turned to Herrick. “What are we going to do about the elves and Vesa?”
Herrick didn’t answer. He was staring at the long silver dagger that lay on the ground where Cairan had died. He walked over to it and picked it up, wiping off the blood on the discarded shirt. “Leave that to me.”
The funeral was short with only a few mourners. When Cairan had said that Vesa was all he had left, he had really meant it. There was no family left in their line except for his daughter to speak for the great man. But I will get her back, he thought to himself, and we will continue on the bloodlines of both our dead end families.
Herrick had returned to the Open Trough Inn to close it up for what could possibly be a long time. Everyone in town had agreed that Vesa would be the next owner of the inn, or Herrick if Vesa never returned. Since Herrick was the only one there, he opted to close the inn down until he returned, then give it back to Vesa.
He had just finished putting up the final chair when a stranger entered the inn, draped in a black cloak. “Sorry, Mister, but we’re closed.”
“I’m not looking for a room,” a voice returned, one which made Herrick look up with hard eyes. He knew that voice. It had an elven tongue to it, and he didn’t know any elves except…
The stranger pushed back his hood, revealing the half-elf who had held him with the garrote wire. “I’m looking for some help.”
Herrick gritted his teeth and stared at Price. “The only help you’ll find here is the path to your grave!”
Charging, Herrick tackled Price right into the wall, the half-elf’s head hitting backwards to stun him. Herrick then drew the silver dagger from his pocket and held it at his throat. “Where is Vesa?”
“I don’t know, human, but I know who has her.”
Herrick held the dagger a little closer to Price’s voice box, anger making his whole body shake. “You have three seconds to explain before I start cutting.”
Price closed his eyes. “I’ve been outcasted from the Order because I refused to kill you and objected to the taking of your woman. You want her and I want back in. Both can be accomplished together… with the destruction of one elf.”
Herrick locked eyes with the half-elf, looking for any signs of treason. “What kind of help do you want from me?”
“I can get in, talk to them, but I can’t fight them. Not alone. The love you have for your woman will help you through the battle, and we will succeed. We have to.”
“How do I know you aren’t trying to make up for what you got outcasted for?”
Price looked down at the dagger. “You realize it is easier to talk without a blade pressed against your throat.”
“It’s also easier to fight when you don’t have a wire wrapped around your neck,” Herrick replied. “Until I make my decision, the dagger stays.”
“Very well.” Price took a deep breath and he did feel the dagger loosen a bit. “I don’t believe in killing innocents, and I consider you one. If I didn’t have this moral, that garrote would have sliced your head off the second you came through that door.”
Herrick considered the words and then released Price but he did not put the dagger back into its hiding spot. “And what is your plan, elf?”
Price dusted off his clothing. “Half-elf. My father was human.”
“You hang with elves, you’re an elf.” Herrick shrugged his shoulders and pulled down a chair to sit in. “You said you had a plan. You do have one, right?”
Price nodded. “We’re going to need some supplies. It is a long journey. The compound is a good three day ride from here.”
“That makes it a ten day walk. Through the west or south woods?”
“West.”
Herrick whistled. He had walked through those woods on his way to the village all those months ago. He had been jumped multiple times and had almost become dinner to other creatures every step along the way. “You must be fools to live in those woods.”
Price raised an eyebrow. “Who is more foolish: the one who lives in the woods, or the one who would try to seek the ones who live there?”
