CHAPTER SIX

Two days after their arrival in Northport, Dunstand Fiske threw a wake for Ryland’s family.

It was held at a warehouse down in the dock district owned by one of Fiske’s friends, and the building was converted into a tavern for the night. At first, Ryland wondered if they’d need so much space, or so much alcohol, as he watched the carts arrive with whole barbecued animals, kegs of beer and casks of wine.

However, it wasn’t long before he understood.

Once the men started coming, they didn’t stop, and soon the air of the warehouse was thick with the smell of beer and the sound of laughter.

“Your grandfather, your father, your brothers and your sister helped a lot along the way.” Fiske explained as the two stood atop a makeshift stage looking down at the mass of mingling people. “There’s freelancers, escorts, packmen, merchants, blacksmiths, grooms, and so many others here who owe their lives and livelihoods to your family. You should feel proud, boy.”

“I do.” Ryland said, looking out across the crowd with mixed feelings in his heart.

“This business takes a village, boy.” Fiske continued. “Remember that if you want to be a part of it. None of us can do what we do without the others, and even our enemies need us sometimes, and we need them.”

As he said that, Fiske gestured towards the side of the room where two groups were eyeing each other as they drank quietly at nearby tables. One was a group of men who wore barely more than Koamalu did, no doubt so they could show off their colourful tattoos. Their leader seemed to be a large, fat man with shaggy chestnut hair and a handlebar moustache.

“That’s Ulf Churchill and his gang, the Full Moon Legion. Your father got them out of a scrape once with some warlord. Doesn’t mean they liked each other, though. Your father made them pay the pack fees in return for him helping them. Ulf never forgave him.”

Ryland nodded. They looked like a mean bunch, but the other group got his attention more.

“Those are the Rose Runners. Liz Sweet’s bunch.”

This was a group that Ryland had actually heard of before. In an industry which was almost completely male, the Rose Runners were one of the small number of all-female armed escort groups, and it made them both famous and highly in demand. Many merchants feared armed escorts taking advantage of their female charges, and felt much safer with women doing the escort work instead of rougher men.

Elizabeth Sweet herself was a tall, dark skinned woman with long corn-row hair that was interlaced with shiny golden string. She wore fine yellow robes tonight, and could have been mistaken for a noblewoman, except for her bearing, which left no doubt she was in charge. Around her were a group of other women with short-cut hair. They were warriors, dressed as such and with the broad arms and thick legs that come with long training.

"They worked with your family a few times, mostly keeping the families happy on bridal caravans. Your brother took a shine to Liz, but she never seemed to care much for him I heard."

Ryland smiled. "She's Darrell's type alright. The harder to get, the more he wanted them."

As he watched, Ulf got Liz Sweet's attention, and raised a Stein of ale to her, pork fat and froth running down his face as he smiled. She turned away and sipped her wine facing another direction.

There was no love lost there.

Then Ryland saw something that made his eyebrows rise. A man had wandered up to the Roses, and was being challenged by Sweet's retinue.

Koamalu?

He heard a laugh beside him. "Your man's got stones, I'll give him that."

The female fighters had stood up to challenge him, but this didn’t seem to stop Koamalu, who grabbed a chair and sat down, chatting animated with them. As Ryland watched, the Rose Runners seemed to relax, and he slowly drew smiles from their stony faces. Even their leader began to pay attention to him, and soon she and he were trading words back and forth with toothy grins.

“Well, I’ll be…” Fiske said, impressed. “He’s got the gift, that one does.”

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Ryland nodded, feeling the same.

A short time later, Fiske banged on an old anchor to get the attention of the assembled and began to speak. First it began with a speech by Fiske about the reason they were all gathered, and then, after he told a short story about meeting Ryland’s father, he invited each man or woman who wanted to share a memory of the dead to come up and tell it as they saw fit.

As he sat and watched from atop a nearby crate with a blanket thrown over it, Ryland found himself laughing, gasping in surprise, and of course crying as each person took their turn. Some were great storytellers, while others could barely put words together in the imperial common speech, but all of them spoke from their hearts and the intent was clear enough. It was perhaps the greatest expression of love he had experienced in his life, and it left him with not a sense of loss (although there was that too), but a sense of awe and wonder at the many whose lives his family had touched.

Then, as the evening came to a close, Ryland sensed from the glances of the audience that it was his time to speak, and he drew in a deep breath. The last funeral he had attended had been his mother’s, and he had been very young, so he had few memories of it. Inside, he wanted to run and hide, but he knew decorum required he at least thank everyone for coming, and in the spirit of the night he felt he should also share, especially since they’d even taken up a collection for him.

So, Ryland stepped in front of the gathered crowd, and as the great room drew silent, he looked out across the faces and began to speak.

“When I was eight, my father took my sister and I along with him on a short run up into the highlands near our home. It was deep winter, and he, and our host, were delivering medicines to a village up near Wyvern’s Peak. We were doing it because there were packs of shadow wolves in the area, and no one would go near the place. But not my father - he said that if an escort was afraid of a few wolves, that just made him a courier, and…” Ryland switched to a voice imitating his father. “We ain’t no cowardly couriers shitting in their boots every time a rabbit jumps.”

This brought a good laugh from the audience, especially Fiske, who nodded with a big smile on his face.

“I was along because I wanted to see shadow wolves, and I’d begged my father to let me come. He obviously didn’t expect to meet any, or else he never would have brought me. My sister Elsbeth was fifteen, and she was along for the same reason, except she wanted to see them so she could try out her new bow, not just get a look at them.

“About halfway up the mountain pass, we met a woodcutter who told us that he’d seen the wolves ahead, and told us to turn back. But, my father being the man he was, he just slapped the man on the shoulder and told him not to worry. Then he had my sister range ahead of us since she was the lightest, and I continued up with my father and our host.

“I could see my father was a little worried, and I asked him if he was scared. He told me that of course he was, but that fear is what keeps you alive, and being brave in the face of fear is what lets you live. Then, he told me not to worry, that as long as I could run faster than Uncle Dunstand, I’d be okay.”

This brought a few howls and comments from the crowd, which made their big host slap his chest. “I’d feed the whole bloody pack, I would.” He said, proudly.

“When we got close to the village, my sister came running back to us. She’d seen the pack lurking around the village, and there were at least twenty of them. If we tried to get through, they’d fall on us, and we’d be done for. So my father, with his children and just one man to help him, made the choice to turn around. We backtracked to the woodcutter’s home, and he and his wife were kind enough to feed us and let us stay the night.

“That night, I remember waking up to see my father putting his winter clothes on and I asked him where he was going. He said he was going out for a walk, and told me to go back to sleep. I knew what he was going to do, and that he was going to go alone, so I started to cry. But he hushed me and told me he’d tan my hide if I didn’t get back to sleep or woke my sister, and he left.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that I didn’t sleep that night. I waited the whole night for him to come back, listening to every crunch and imagining I heard him whistling whenever the wind picked up. Then, just before morning, he came back just like he said he would. He’d delivered the medicines, and told us about how he snuck past the wolves and into the village and then out again. It was a long story, and I’m sure some of you have heard it already. He loved to tell that one, although I think at last count there were at least a hundred wolves.”

More than a few knowing laughs came from the audience.

“On the way home, I asked him why he’d done something so dangerous. He laughed and told me that an escort has three jobs. The first is to get the cargo where it’s going no matter what.”

Firm nods came from the audience.

“The second, is to keep the bloody clients happy, no matter how stupid they are.”

Smiles and knowing laughter broke out across the room.

“And the third,” Ryland paused and took in a deep breath, feeling his chest start to get heavy. “Is to never quit, no matter what.”

Then he blinked, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. “My father did all of those things, and so did my whole family. They got the job done, they dealt with the bloody idiots, and they did it right up until the end, no matter what. Thank you all so much for coming tonight. It’s been wonderful hearing your stories and knowing that my family meant so much to all of you. My father and my siblings would have loved this whole thing, except for the fact it was for them…”

Then the tears finally broke through, and Ryland couldn’t speak anymore. He had wanted that to be a joke to lighten things up, but instead it had broken down the last barriers he’d had keeping the grief he felt under control. He felt the arm of Dunstand Fiske around his shoulders, and saw the big man was crying as well - the two hugged and sobbed together.

The rain fell hard that night.