Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

We soon reached the outskirts of the humble town known as Scima. The streets had been laid out according to the designs of a madman such that they ran in all different directions and often intersected many times. Three-floor opulent old mansions stood nearly wall-to-wall with small hovels, though stately manors occupied all the lands around a small lake on the southeastern part of town. The general architecture was early medieval with an emphasis on thick wooden beams and walls of stones gathered from the now pristine fields. Pigsties and chickens dotted the landscape and the number of pubs outnumbered the churches.

"What do you think?" Ben asked me as we rolled into the crowds that wheeled and walked here and there.

I wrinkled my nose as we passed a hotel that had as much cleanliness as one of the nearby pigsties. One of the flashily dressed women who leaned against a porch roof post winked at Ben. "I think it has its own character."

He bowed his head to the lady of ill repute. "That would be a very apt and polite way to put it."

A mischievous thought struck me. "So should we stay in one of these places to try out the local flavors?"

"I have only one current favorite," he returned as he smiled at me. "And she's seated beside me at this very moment."

I nudged his arm with my elbow. "You know how to make a girl blush, I'll give you that." I folded my arms over my chest and looked about us. "So what sights should we see?"

Ben patted his breast pocket. "We should leave Fysan's list for last so the vegetables won't be too wilted by the time we return to the house."

"So what then?"

He cocked his head to one side and grinned at me as he directed Ferox off the main road and onto the first side street. "What do you say to having an early drink?"

"That would depend on the drink," I mused as we passed a pub.

The door was open, which was fortunate for the man who was unceremoniously tossed through it and out onto the street. He landed almost in front of us and Ferox jerked to a stop with an indignant snuff. The short-stop flight left the man a little dazed and he struggled to stand. He grabbed the harness of our carriage.

Ben shot to his feet. "You might want to let-"

Too late. Ferox reared up, launching the man into the air. He landed with a clatter halfway between us and the open door. A soft groan escaped the twice-abused fellow.

The burly fellow who had tossed him glared at his former customer. "And that's what you get for not paying!" And with that, he stomped back into the bar.

Ben hopped down and rushed over to the man. The gentleman of the bar counter was just staggering to his feet as Ben grasped one bent arm.

"Are you alright?" Ben asked him.

The man dropped his head back and grinned up at Ben. The stranger was about forty with three-day-old whiskers and unruly hair that would have sat about shoulder length but was now draped over everything but his shoulders. He wore a drab overcoat and matching pants with a soiled shirt underneath. A pair of worn boots covered his feet.

"Of course I'm alright," the man replied as he dug into his coat and drew out a bottle. "I managed to get this prize before he tossed me."

I hopped down and hurried up to Ben's side. The bottle was in pristine condition. "How is that not broken?"

The man leaned toward me and gave me a wink. His breath wreaked of alcohol. And garlic. "Magic, miss. Ain't nothing better than to use a little sprinkle and save a perfectly good bottle." The man proceeded to pop the cork, or would have if his clumsy fingers could have grabbed the short nub.

Ben chuckled as he gave the man's arm a tug. "Perhaps you should enjoy your victory somewhere other than the middle of the street."

The man whipped his head to and fro, and his mouth flopped open a few times. "Is that where I am?"

"Come on," Ben encouraged him as he led the man out of the street.

Ferox snorted again and pulled the carriage out of the flow of traffic. I followed the two men and Ben set the drunkard on a barrel a stone's throw away from the bar out of which he'd been himself thrown.

The man dropped back against the wall and blinked furiously. "Well, that's awfully nice of ya, young fella. What's yer name?"

Ben grinned. "Have you forgotten it already, Mr. Dugal?"

Dugal leaned forward and squinted at Ben. After a moment's study, his eyes widened and a grin spread across his stubby face. "Well, I'll be! Ben!" He clapped a hand on the young man's shoulder. "By the powers of nature, how you've grown! What happened to that skinny lad I used to sling over my shoulder and toss into the sties?"

Ben chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm a little too old to be swimming with the pigs."

Dugal shook his head. "Pity. They were awful fond of you. Especially the sows." He fumbled a moment longer with the cork and wrinkled his nose before he shoved the bottle against Ben's chest. "Do an old man a favor and open this bottle, will ya?"

Ben took the bottle and shook his head. "I'd rather have a conversation with you and not the bottom of the bottle."

Dugal sneered. "Perish the thought. ‘To be sober is to be dead,' that's my motto."

"I thought it was to ‘focus on the spirit rather than the mind,'" Ben reminded him.

The man shrugged. "Maybe it was, but that was a long time ago. Now I have a new love and-" He reached over and tried to snatch the bottle from Ben, but my companion held it out of reach. Dugal scowled at him. "Now listen here, young whelp. I've swiped that fair and square, so don't go doing any take-backs."

Ben smiled at his former discipline master. "The only thing that's being taken is you straight home. Where are you living?"

Dugal patted the barrel on which he sat. "Here, my boy, and here I will stay until you give me back that-hey!" Ben had, in one fell swoop, stooped and flung Dugal over his shoulder. The man thrashed, but in his condition he had all the strength of a toddler and all the success of a blind roofer. After a moment Dugal went limp and sighed. "Alright, lad, you've got me, but don't go expecting me not to pay you back for this."

Ben handed me the bottle and patted his old acquaintance on the leg. "Don't feel too bad. This was bound to happen sooner or later. Now then, where can we take you?"

"Straight to the bowels of the earth so I can keep my dignity. . ." Dugal muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Just take me anywhere, you dolt!" Dugal snapped as he pounded a fist against Ben's back. "Just get me away from all those eyes staring at us!" We had indeed attracted a crowd, and many of them looked on with amusement.

Ben caught Ferox's gaze. "We'll be back. Don't toss too many people." The horse bobbed his head.

Ben walked us onto a side street and out of view of the curious crowd. His prodigious strength meant he carried the man well, and Dugal took the opportunity to focus his attention on me as I followed close behind.

Dugal leaned his elbow against Ben's back and cupped his chin in his hand as he admired me. "Ya know, Ben, I would've recognized your ugly mug sooner if this beauty hadn't been blinding me."

I snorted. "You sound like you have practice saying that."

He gave me a toothy grin and shook his head. "No, miss. There are few who can outshine Ben here, but your aura brightens up the whole world." He nodded at the canister on my arm. "That's helping, I imagine. What have you got in it? Captured a ray from the sun?" My slow mind couldn't think of a clear reply.

Ben twisted his head around to cast one eye at me. "Though he doesn't look nor act it, Dugal here has quite the talent with magic. He's an expert at reading auras."

My eyes widened as a thought struck me. "Then maybe you know someone named Ealdan."

Dugal's eyebrows crashed down and he sobered up real quick. "Ealdan? What are you wanting with that thing?"