The Family Line Part 42 – A Rest

Part 42 – A Rest

A house, just a modest house, was just before Theomin. A single level with a thatched rooftop it was with dark granite stone massanry work on its outside. Lining the modest house was a dark wooded trim spanning the length and edges of the house. It bore a single window to the right of a small wooden door arched at the top with two iron hinges that ran almost across the length of the door. The door lead to a small poarch at the front of the house that rose up a foot or so off the ground with steps leading down. At first site it was not a house of any significance for it was as ordinary as could be but to Theomin, it was home. He felt at home in that place, seeing it as a place where love and affection resided.

For just a second, he saw a quick glimpse of his mother as he started to whisper to her as if she was still there listening to him, “I had the strangest dream. I had left home to find a place I could never get to. I tried for a long time to get there but the further I went, the further the away the place was. I could not get there. Not with all the traveling all day long for weeks. After a while, I could not even remember why I wanted to get there. I feel that you were waiting for me and I had to try every day to find you there, but for some reason it was not you I was looking for. I missed you, mother. Every day I missed you. Do not let me leave again. I will stay home with you and grow old with you.”

A momentary jolt shook him back to reality. He looked around the room he was in but did not see his mother. He was in an empty room at the Inn of the Prancing Pony. It was just the beginning of day as the sun shone slightly through the windows of the room. He sighed in slight sadness as his dream forced him to remember home and his mother. He felt the warm embrace of home as if home was a person holding him and hugging him with its tight warm embrace. The cold feeling of loneliness sank in on him as his sad reality of being alone hundreds of miles away from home darkened his heart.

He remembered, then, back on the single house he saw in his dream. It was a reoccuring dream he had for as long as he could remember. He recalled having that dream before but always running away from the house in the chill of the night. He knew not why he had that dream over and over again but it was one that always made him feel at home and peaceful. Back when he was at home, he would always hug his mother after such a dream, as if it triggered a response of love and affection toward his parents. In the morning at the inn, though, he had no convenience of having his family close by. He was alone in the darkness of the room at the inn.

As he gathered himself and pushed aside the memory of home, he left the room and made his way down the narrow corridors toward the dining room. It felt quite nice having a dining room to head to at an inn. He had not had that for a very long time. After leaving Avardin, he had not the feeling of being in a place that had all the comforts of a real home away from home. Through his journey there were no inns or hostils he could feel the comfort of. This place was true to the travelers needs, making them feel more at home than any other place.

Theomin approached the inn keeper, whom looked refreshed with a fare amount of sleep the night before. “Excuse me,” Theomin started.

“Good morning sir, a little egg and toasty bacon to begin your morning?” the man happily offered.

“Thank you, Mr…I am sorry I had not caught your name.”

“That would be Butterbur. Barliman Butterbur and you’re welcome,” he gave an invitingly welcoming smile as bright as a morning sunrise.

He gratefully took the plate of eggs and bacon, not knowing where his next meal was going to be. “Did the lady I spoke about make it here last night?”

“Lady?” Butterbur asked, visibly unsure of who Theomin was speaking of. “Which lady might that be?”

Theomin was confused. He knew he had spoken of her the night before and could not understand why the inn keeper did not know who he was talking about. “The dark skin, dark hair lady not from around here,” Theomin described while gesturing with his hands.

“Oh, yes, you spoke of her last night. Haven’t seen anyone who looks like this girl.”

Theomin’s heart sank. Was she dead? Did she just leave him without reason? He thanked the inn keeper and had his quiet meal of egg and bacon. Though the news of Eleswith’s whereabouts was troubling, the meal at the inn was excellent. The eggs, sunny side-up with a sprinkle of pepper on top of a slice of toasted bread, was perfectly cooked. The bacon, crispy with a hardwood salty flavor, excited his palet so much so that he melted with enjoyment. He had not had a decent meal in a terribly long time. It did not last long on his plate, though. It was gone in only a matter of moments. Either he was much hungrier than he thought or he was anxious to see what happened to Eleswith.

He rose up from his seat and seconds later, Nob quickly collected his plate and ran off. The little guy was as fast as a hare evading a farmer. It was lucky that he had finished as quickly as he did because the dining room started to pack up with the first customers of the morning. Theomin left the dining room and out the door.

It was a cool moist morning as the sun rose up, shining on the white spakle of the buildings of Bree. They reflected the light brilliantly as if the sun was right at ground level, shining about the town. As his eyes became used to the light, he saw the bussling of the town much more than the night before. People were walking about meeting and chatting, carrying buckets of water and other things as they scurried along their own little chores of the morning.

Theomin took the hike down the hill to the stable master at the southern gate of Bree. He took his horse and started off with it. Just for a moment, though, he paused. He was safe within the walls of Bree. Trotting out into the wilderness of the lands again was perilous; the goblins, bears, and brigands made it that way, bringing fear from one turn to the next. Theomin had to go. He had to find his friend someplace. So he gathered up his nerves and rode out.

He traveled the length of the Great East Road until he came upon the tree he tied Bragga to the night before. It was not as far as it seemed the night before but under the dark of night, everything seems longer and more treacherous. To the south, the ruins stood as a sad reminder of the loss of Eleswith and his poor lynx. As fear gripped at him, he stood there, thinking twice about entering into the ruins that clamed so many lives. Again, he had to stuff his anxiety away and dismounted from Bragga. He tied her to the tree and took out his staff. He had to find Aches to see if he was, in fact, dead.

Slowly and caucisouly he scaled the small hill around the trees toward the ruins. As he reached the ruins, he touched the wall, remembering the night before and the horrors he experienced with the goblins and the briggands. Snapping back to the present, he walked the length of the ruins looking for an entrance. It took him quite a few minutes but he finally found it. Walking in, the ruins grounds were a complete disaster. Dead corpses of goblins and briggands were strewn about the inside. Severed limbs littered the ruin grounds as the massacre took so many lives as pools of blood soaked the ground.

Theomin looked around, under bodies, cloth, ruined shelves. He thought back at the lynx in Eregion and how he seemed so innocent back then. All his thoughts were about finding Aches and hoping with all his hope that he was alive. Soon, he found himself at the pedisul where, just the night before, that man with the deep voice threatened Theomin and Eleswith. He soon came upon the site were he set the goblins aflame with his lightning and the ruined corridor of the exit. No place around was the sight of Aches until from out of the wrecked wall a single paw sat on the ground. It seemed lifeless as it rested there upon the earth. Theomin placed a hand over his mouth while a tear broke free at the sight of Aches, crushed under the weight of the ruined wall. He bent down and touched it but the leg twitched slightly. A sudden shock poured through Theomin’s body, hoping his friend was still alive. He pulled gently on the leg of Aches. It moved freely as Theomin pulled out his companion.

Covered in the dust of the ruins, the poor lynx was weak and could not move. It had a small wound on its side, as the fur soaked it all up. Not a drop of its blood hit the ground. With all hope it was not a life threatening wound. As he lifted the lynx it awoke and looked weakly at Theomin. It reached its paw up to Theomin, touching and resting its paw on Theomin’s chest. Theomin hugged the lynx wishing he could hug him tightly but making sure he did not cause further injury to the lynx. He then rose from the ground carrying the lynx back toward the exit of the ruins.

It was then, out in the distance, someone very familiar was seen rifling through some things on the ground. The person then rose up and slung a pack on the back. She turned and looked at Theomin holding Aches. For a moment, he saw the first glimpse of emotion from her as she happily walked with an astonished swiftness up to Thoemin. She look in his eyes which told him she missed him as much as he missed her.

Eleswith looked down misty eyed with a smile at Aches, “You found your lynx.”

Theomin petted Aches on the fur, “I did,” he smiled down at Aches, “and he’s alive.” He looked at Eleswith, “Where were you last night?”

“I was chased so long by those things, so long,” she said with so much pain behind her eyes. “I was saved by a man bearing dark cloth. He was more skilled than any I’ve ever seen. He said nothing but just looked back at me and then vanished into the night. After that, exhaustion took me and I stayed in some old stable of a farm. I am sorry I couldn’t come to you last night.”

“It is alright,” Theomin gratefully said, “What is in the bag?”

Eleswith looked long at Theomin before answering. “My payment,” she said but her look told him there was something to the bag that gave her grief beyond what she was willing to share. She continued, “But I looked for the body of Kronog, the man I was speaking with last night. I could not find him here nor could I find him about the lands around the ruins.” She looked down, “I know not what that means.”

“Will he be looking for us?”

She staired at Theomin with a long and silent regret, “Yes.”

“Then,” he said, “we should find our way back to Bree before he finds us.”

With haste, the two found their way out of the ruins but they did not get far. A group of men, three with drawn arrows, stood at the exit, the arrows fixed on Theomin and Eleswith. They were dressed in leather from top to bottom with red capes draped down their backs. The lead man spoke up, “Stop right there,” the man said. “My men won’t hesitate to fire upon you if you try to run.” Theomin stood, looking at Eleswith. Her lip shook as tears streamed down her face, “I am Captain Burt Thistlerose of the Bree guard and you are under arrest.”

Theomin cocked his head to the side in disbelief. “And what are we being charged with?”

The man said clearly and loudly, “Murder.”

Special thanks to Cithryth for the outfit ideas. Though I didn’t implement all of them, they were the inspiration behind the Bree guards outfits and colors.