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The Rocky Shore
Raymond, Chapter 13

Raymond, Chapter 13

  The warehouse district was surrounded by a shorter wall that joined the main town wall at two points, forming a simple fortress on the north side of town. Over two hundred warehouses were lined in neat rows and columns, with only narrow alleys between them running west-to-east and paved paths running north to south, with a broader one leading to the harbor. Some might say that the warehouses were packed inadvisable close together, but for my purposes, they were perfect.

  On any normal day, dock workers and security guards ensured that there were never fewer than twenty people watching the district at a given time, with more ready to be summoned at a moment's notice. Some of the goods stored here were sold in Rocky Shore, but most of it was ready to be loaded onto a ship when the next one arrived, to be sold in Silva in the south or Lotterheim in the north.

  Today, however, every able-bodied ruffian that Garth-Morhead employed here was off trying to capture innocent people (and innocent-ish goblins) who just wanted to live somewhere else. Which meant that all their stockpiles of goods, the wealth that was the source of power for Lord Harker and Garth-Morhead, was sitting practically unguarded.

  I shimmied over the eight-foot wooden wall. A couple of armed men were guarding the gate on the inside. Fortunately, they had the kind of work ethic I had come to expect from Rocky Shore's thug community, and I got the drop on them. I saw no reason to be merciful. This was a war now. I opened the gate for Brit, who winced visibly at their bodies. I had never killed anyone until barely a week ago, and it was already so easy. I lifted the bar back into place once she was inside, to prevent anyone from joining us prematurely.

  “The first thing we need is a cart. Go see if you can find one near the docks.” I told her.

  “Someone is bound to see us and raise the alarm.” she hissed at me. “Not everyone in town is hiding.”

  “I don't think they want to get involved. People like them hide and keep quiet when people like us come through.” Of course, I knew it was possible that someone would see us and report it, but that was a minor threat at this point. I was sure that little mouse was still scurrying around, so remaining hidden was not really an option. It was more important for Brit to understand that she was now one of the people who actively dealt with problems, rather than ones who just hoped that things would get better.

  Brit ran off to investigate the harbor. I knew that she was well-armed and capable, but I still hated to split up. I began tearing open and searching the warehouses. The locks weren't anything that my mace couldn't destroy with a few solid hits. A lot of the contents were unmarked, and I didn't have anything like enough time for a thorough search. My priorities were things that we would need to survive in the wilderness. Food was a must, of course, but we would also need tools to build shelters and some means of keeping warm. I didn't know exactly how many people would be coming and how far we would need to travel, which made things difficult. I worked my way deeper into the neat rows of heavily-built warehouses. I found one filled with crates of beans, bound for Lotterheim. Another was full of what looked like supplies for a hotel, including several boxes full of white towels. Each time I found something that seemed useful, I made a mental note to load it up when Brit got back. I found another containing a shipment of finished iron goods, including tools of various kinds, cookware, and plenty of nails. The best find, however, was an entire warehouse packed with large barrels of cooking oil. I grabbed several of these, punched holes in them, and rolled them around among the sheds, trying to cover as wide an area as possible.

  Brit soon returned, accompanied by two donkeys pulling a small cart. She drove them with a goad.

  “This is all I could find. They used the larger carts for the barricades.”

  “It'll do. We can't prepare as we should, but we can at least have some supplies with us when we leave. I'll load it up. You start spreading oil to as many sheds as you can.”

  There wasn't a lot of room to work with, and I didn't dare load the cart too heavily, considering the kind of terrain it might have to be dragged across. I was only able to get four crates of beans and two barrels of oil onto the cart. I used towels to fill in the gaps and prevent things from moving in transit. Grain and blankets would have been preferred, but I didn't know where they were and time was tight. Several shovels, axes, saws, hammers, and some nails were crammed in wherever they would fit. Finally, I hung a large iron cauldron from the back, so we would have something to cook the beans in.

  Looking at the hastily packed cart, I realized that my tinderbox was still back at Digby's shed with the rest of my traveling gear. I had no means of producing a spark.

  Brit watched me tear another lock off a warehouse. “What are you looking for?”

  “We need something to start a fire!” I shouted in frustration as I beat at the crude lock with my mace. “I don't even have a piece of flint!”

  “I have my tinderbox with...” she began, but she stopped when I threw open the bay doors. Inside this warehouse, there were no supplies. Instead, the floor was covered in straw, like a barn. Shackles and manacles were arranged around the walls and floor. This warehouse had been outfitted to store human beings. By the looks of it, over fifty people could be packed in here, chained down in the darkness until they were ready to be shipped.

  Brit covered her mouth and stared in horror. “This is...I never thought it could get this bad.”

  I gave her a moment to process what she was seeing before I spoke. “I was wondering what they were planning to do with all the undesirables.”

  I heard the sound of the gate behind us opening. I hid behind one of the sheds and motioned for Brit to join me. “They're onto us. Pass me your tinderbox. I'll keep them occupied while you get away in the cart. Head south down the beach, until you come to a mound with two dead trees on either side. I'll bring everyone to join you as soon as I can.”

  I hated to send her there, but I didn't know of anywhere else she could wait in safety. Hopefully the Queen would understand that she was on our side.

  “I can fight. You don't have to do this alone.” she hissed back.

  “I know you can, but we will need those supplies. If anyone follows you, manage them as best you can. Good luck.”

  She passed me the tinderbox, then began creeping through the warehouses, avoiding line of sight with the oncoming enemy and making no more noise than a cat. Her stealth skills were clearly superior to mine, for which I was very grateful.

  I peeked around the corner of the warehouse. I could see perhaps a dozen armed men examining the loaded cart that Brit would need to escape with. One of them was a tall man blonde man with a neatly combed beard. On his shoulder was perched a red-breasted robin. The section of warehouses that we had prepared with oil was between us. Brit would have to get the cart out of there before I could light the oil. I needed a distraction, and badly.

  I reached into my pocket and withdrew the silver coin that had been my near-constant companion in this world. Even as I decided on my next course of action, I could feel it tugging at my heart. It didn't want to leave me, and it would try anything to stay with me. Now that I had realized the effect was magical, rather than some instinct of my own, I was able to resist, but only just. “Radix Malorum Est Cupiditas”, I read. If I was having trouble resisting its siren song, what about those whose hearts were full of greed already?

  The robin swooped past me and darted back toward the center. Realization dawned on me even as it disappeared from view.

  “Hello there, Raymond!” called a familiar voice. It was strong, regal, and very refined. I felt like warm honey was being drizzled into my ear. In other words, disgusted. Worse, I could tell by the way the sound reverberated that the speaker was facing directly toward me.

  “A little birdie told me you would come here. A more clever plan than I would have thought, but it's over now. Come on out and surrender.”

  I was amazed when my instincts immediately demanded that I surrender to him. Again, knowing that his voice was being bolstered by Seelie magic made resisting the effect easier, but easier doesn't mean easy. I wondered if Brit would be able to resist, even if he wasn't addressing her.

  The coin in my hand struggled with me. It was almost speaking to me, wanting me to hold it, protect it, keep it near me. With an act of will, I decided that it no longer belonged to me, that I no longer wanted it, or needed it. This was a lie in a sense. The need of it oozed from its shiny surface. After all, it was the only magical item I possessed, and it may still have powers I didn't know about. But it was my choice, and I needed to follow through. I jumped up on the roof of the warehouse, and held the coin so its surface caught the sun and reflected it toward the approaching goons. I saw their eyes light up as they saw it. The need for it trickled into their eyes. They charged toward me, the regal man leading them from the rear.

  They had a harder time getting up than I had. The first few who tried to climb up were suddenly interrupted by my mace. Three fell fell dead to the ground before the first one climbed up. I launched myself from the roof and made a run for it.

  They pursued me through the district. Wearing chain-mail made it hard to keep up a good pace, but I didn't need to keep it for long. I ran headlong down the opposite side of the district, giving Brit a chance to grab the cart and get away. She was in danger as long as the Seelie Fae was being used as a lookout. I darted in and out among the sheds. The damn bird was always in the air, ready to give away my position immediately whenever I hid. I worked my way back toward the gate. I saw the cart tracks in the oil-slicked pavement. Brit had managed to slip away. I made a charge toward the oil-soaked area. I was out of breath as I approached.

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  “Enough of this.” said the refined voice. I glanced behind me.

  My heart pounded. Running in chain-mail was harder than I had thought. I brandished my mace above my head. The blonde man and his small crowd of enforcers hesitated.

  “A bar of silver to whoever brings me his head!” shouted the refined voice. I felt the slap of power that his voice carried. The men who had been shrinking away suddenly seemed to surge with new energy and confidence. That potion must really be something.

  As they rushed toward me, I turned and ran, and my stomach filled with lead at what I was about to do. After a brief struggle with myself, I allowed the coin to slip from my grasp and clatter to the pavement with a musical ring.

  The sound of footsteps behind me paused.

  “It's a distraction, you idiots!” shouted the regal man.

  I ignored him as I fumbled for the tinder-box. I just needed the flint. I desperately summoned that calm place inside myself that my meditation had brought me to. Instead of opening my mind to the world, I focused all my attention on the task of getting across the oil slick without slipping. Deaf to the rush of oncoming enemies, I scraped the flint against the pavement at the edge of the slick, sending a little shower of sparks over the oil.

  Opening my awareness again, I saw that my trick had worked. Their eyes had been drawn to the evil little coin I had left on the ground. They had known it was a distraction, but it distracted them anyway. They were already too late. The flames licked their way across the ground, spreading rapidly. Some of the enforcers beat at the burning ground with their coats to try and extinguish it, but it was already licking at the nearby warehouses.

  I watched the blonde man from across the spreading flames. I wanted to savor the look in his eyes. He was watching the wealth of Garth-Morhead being consumed, and I saw the despair of a man who had sold his soul and received a heap of ashes in return. Even as the flames crept toward the warehouse where the rest of the oil was stored, I watched him bend down and pluck the little coin from the ground. Even knowing what I knew, there was a mad part of me that wanted to leap across the flames and try to retrieve the coin, a part that believed that despite everything, it was he who had won today if he walked away with the coin. The stronger part of me was grateful that it was now his problem, and I turned and ran.

  The oil-barrel warehouse went up like a huge match-head, blasting burning oil and chunks of flaming debris everywhere. With the oiled area already burning, the spread of the fire slowed down, but as I had hoped, a lot of water and probably some impromptu demolition would be necessary to keep the rest of the sheds from burning to the ground. Once again suppressing the insane urge to go after the coin, I headed for the abandoned watchtower at the north-east corner of town. From the top, I could just see Brit's cart slowly progressing down the beach beyond the harbor. As smoke filled the air, I dropped heavily down onto the ground outside the wall.

  I ran around the entire town, past the main gates and toward the gap that the raiders had created. I was gasping for breath when I arrived. Only Statler was guarding the opening.

  “Hey, you made it! I win my bet!” he cheerfully greeted me. As per usual, the goblin was entirely unfazed by the chaos and suffering around him. His human disguise was a bald man with prominent buck teeth and a patchy beard.

  Dogberry Lane was all but unrecognizable. It had transformed from a place of busy industry into a fortress under siege. Most of the locals had formed into a large crowd near the breach in the wall, ready to reinforce the dozen small barricades that sealed the lane from the rest of the town. When I had had a chance to catch my breath, I asked Statler where Digby had gone.

  “Digby headed south a couple days ago, just before you got arrested. He was scouting out a new place for us to settle. It's been pretty exciting around here! Without Matilda and Digby to organize everyone, Gerald stepped up to lead the defense.”

  Statler showed me to the barricade where Gerald was keeping watch. When he turned and saw me, for just a moment I saw his eyes fill with fear. I was covered in blood and gore once again, an unhappy side effect of wielding a mace. He recovered quickly, smiled, and jumped up to greet me.

  “Raymond, you escaped! I'm so glad to see you!” he seemed nothing like the frightened, weary man he had been when I last spoke to him. I was a lot less enthusiastic though, since I knew what was coming next.

  “Your girlfriend sprung me out of jail. We set fire to the warehouse district.”

  He took a second to process that. “You know Brittany? Is she alright?” he was worried, as might be expected.

  “Yeah, she's fine. I sent her down the beach with some supplies we stole from Morhead. What's been happening here?”

  He spoke solemnly. “We were ordered to start rounding up everyone in Dogberry Lane. They said things about a rebellion, and then other things about “maintaining public order” and “cleansing the town of refuse”. It was like they had all lost their minds. The magistrate has changed somehow. It was just like you said, Raymond. I had to decide who I was really protecting. I said goodbye to Brittany, and came and told everyone here to start building defenses. When they saw that they couldn't arrest us all easily, they built their own defenses and waited for us to starve in here.”

  “How is the food situation here?”

  “We still have the mushrooms, and a few sacks of grain, but that's it. We're totally dependent on regular supplies from the docks. We can't hold out a week as it stands.”

  I nodded grimly. “I don't see any alternative then. We have to escape while they're working on the fires.”

  His face fell. “In the the middle of winter? We'll either freeze or starve before we can get anywhere. Where can we even go?”

  I paused. I knew where the goblins were considering fleeing to. That was why I had sent Brit in that direction. Still, I could easily catch up to her and bring her back if I had to. I didn't like the idea of leaving all these humans at the mercy of the Unseelie Queen. She had warned us about the raid, which had likely saved many lives, but I had seen for myself how harsh and cruel she could be. I hoped there were other options.

  I sighed. “I don't know. I wish I did. What about Miller's Glen? Could we settle there?”

  “We've already discussed that. Garth Morhead has almost as much influence there as it does here, and they could easily chase us down on the road. We might as well surrender here as head to the west.”

  “North?” I suggested hopefully.

  “It only gets harsher and colder that way, and the terrain is all mountains. Without a path to follow, we'd just end up trapped in the snow.”

  “Damn. I guess south is the only way then. Digby was scouting out down there for a new place to settle, but he hasn't returned yet.”

  Gerald rubbed his forehead. He didn't like having to make these choices any more than I did. “So we head down into the wilderness after Brittany, and hope that Digby has found us somewhere to spend the winter? That doesn't sound like much of a plan.”

  I could have told him about the Unseelie Queen and of Digby's hope that she would be able to direct us toward a new home. I just didn't think the idea would have comforted him any more than it did me.

  “I know. But staying here isn't an option.” I pointed toward the breach in the wall. “Out there, we at least have some chance.”

  He inhaled slowly. “I guess you're right. Rocky Shore has pretty much made up it's mind about us. It's going to be a hard sell though. Most of us have lived here all our lives. We've all heard stories about how dangerous the wilderness is. I think some might just choose to stay and hope the whole thing blows over.”

  “I saw warehouses over there that had been outfitted as cages. I think the magistrate was planning to sell all the unwanted citizens as slaves. If anyone stays here, that's where they'll end up.” I informed him.

Gerald took a deep breath. “Even if that's true, we'll never convince everyone of it. The evidence is probably burning up as we speak.”

  “I need your help on this, Gerald. These people need a leader right now.”

  “I'm not even a captain, let alone a leader.”

  “Just because your talents weren't recognized in the guard doesn't mean I can't recognize them. These people went to war with their own town on your say-so. They know you, and you've earned their trust. With Matilda and Digby gone, there's no one else.”

  “I don't suppose you've considered trying for the position yourself? People asked me if you were ever coming back.”

  “I know a few people here I might be able to persuade, but I haven't been here a month yet. People may want me on their side, but this (I gestured to my gore-splattered clothing) does not look like a brighter tomorrow.”

  Of course, the real reason I didn't want to get involved in any leadership positions is that I had seen my skills list. Leadership had a big fat -1 next to it. I don't lead, and I don't like following either. Getting out of the way isn't really my strong suit either, for that matter.

  He grimaced. “I take your point. I'll start spreading the word among some of the older folks. If I can convince them, we should be alright.”

  “Good plan. I'll get packed for a journey and direct everyone I meet to do the same. We don't have a lot of time. We need to be underway in an hour.”

  In fact, it was nearly two hours before we were actually underway. As promised, I alerted the goblin population, who expedited things quite a bit. They were reluctant to be bossed around by any human, but I was known as an ally of Digby and of the Unseelie Court, so they began packing and alerting others to do the same. I returned to Digby's storeroom to retrieve my traveling gear and the shield that Sigmund had brought me. I glanced around the storeroom. I wouldn't be sorry to see the last of the smelly dump. It occurred to me that the barrel of dogshit might well contain other items that Digby would be reluctant to part with on a permanent basis. Using a rag as a glove and pinching my nose as best I could, I retrieved several more concealed bags from among the turds. I didn't open them, but one definitely contained coins,another what felt like rocks, and another seemed to be full of old bones. I found a burlap sack among the piles of refuse, and hid the contraband, whatever it was, in it along with some candles, soap, and a few precious blankets. With the sack slung over my shoulder, I was burdened to the point that I would need to drop something to work with my hands.

  I did my best to help the rest of the community get underway, but I was usually rebuffed, politely if firmly. Dogberry Lane was home to the elderly, small children, pregnant women, and people with serious disabilities, none of whom could be packed and ready to go without serious work and more than a little drama. Still, hardly anyone was desperate enough to seek help from me. I was beginning to suspect that the majority of Dogberry Lane viewed me as a sort of benevolent boogieman, too scary to approach except in desperation.

  I found myself sitting down and wondering if could have had time to clean myself up if I had known how long the preparations would take. Of course, several days of buying and preparing supplies would have been more suitable, but we simply didn't have the time. I checked on the progress of the fire, and was relieved to see that it had become slightly less fierce. I didn't want the fire I had started to actually harm anyone, and I also didn't want it to spread so far that Harker and Blondie decided to give up on fighting it and come looking for revenge instead. And there was still the ever-present threat of the Seelie. There was only one of them in town that I knew of, and yet that was enough to manipulate the town's leadership and throw everything into chaos. I wondered what they would think of me now that I had foiled their plan. Assuming that everything I had done hadn't been part of their plan, naturally.

  Though it felt like a glacier could outrun us, we finally did leave town. No one appeared to attack us or bar our way. I waited by the opening as everyone filed past me, some with sacks over their shoulders, some pushing wheel-barrows full of supplies and precious keepsakes, some helping others to keep up. I counted each person who passed, mentally noting their species and age. All in all, there were forty-three goblins that I could identify and sixty-one humans, including sixteen children. Between us, we had four wheel-barrows, three donkeys, five goats, and dozens of sacks full of whatever possessions had been deemed too important to leave behind. In terms of defense, we had about sixty people who might be capable to some degree, but no more than twenty that I would consider reliable fighters. Nearly all the goblins were solid combatants, but I had no way to know how many would actually be willing to fight when life was on the line. If we were attacked, it was anyone's guess what might happen.

  I wondered how long I could keep so many people alive with the meager provisions we had. Even when we caught up to Brit, we would have enough to last us a few weeks if we were careful. We were leaving just as winter was really setting in, the worst possible time for such a journey. I nodded politely to Sigmund, Gertrude, and Statler as they passed. Gerald stood at the head of the column, leading the way toward the south. I took up the rear, reasoning that this was the direction that an attack was most likely to come from.

  A strange and wonderful thought occurred to me then. For all the time I had spent in this world so far, I had been a stranger living among locals. But from here on out, these people would all be wanderers, facing an unfamiliar and dangerous world together. Just like me. For better or worse, I was not alone.