CHAPTER EIGHT: Culvert’s Rock

Carter woke up with a start. Half-formed fragments of half-forgotten dreams floated beneath his closed eyelids. Images of a black house he had never seen flashed through his mind: the decayed roof tiles, the charred wooden walls, the skeletal tree at the front. All of it was clear yet incomprehensible. The starkest view of all was that of a silhouette, black against the clear panes of the circle window located on the third floor. It was of a woman, features unseeable, looking directly at him, beckoning to him without movement. She was calling to him, across an infinite ocean that could be crossed within two steps.

He opened his eyes. The unfamiliar flat wooden boards of the ceiling overhead met his sight. Four blinks cleared the dryness from his eyes and Carter pushed himself up into a seated position. He was naked except for his underwear, lying on a bed that was not his own. The straw-filled mattress wasn’t what he would call comfortable, though it was definitely less lumpy than the old, cheap modern one he had back home. The room wasn’t his either, as it lacked the usual mess and layers of dust that he couldn’t be bothered to deal with. This one was clean, though a bit smaller than what he was used to. Next to the bed was a metal tub filled with cloudy water. The sight caused a memory to stir inside his head, one where he had been hastily scrubbing at the dirt, grime, and dried blood marring his skin using the hot, recently boiled water provided by the inn, along with a small, rough bar of soap.

For the briefest of moments, he had no idea where he was, until the fugue of sleep faded and the events of yesterday took hold in his clearing mind. Flashes of various events filled his memory. Of sharp teeth biting, of soil and mud and roots beneath the soles of his shoes as he ran. Of unkind men with swords and leers, of a dead mother and child. Of the cave, and the rock and the blade, and the color of two bastards’ blood.

He remembered escaping the bandits’ cave before running into Reeve Lannok and his men. The lawmen asked for his help and Carter quickly gave it. They all rode on horses back towards the cave, the Reeve intent on seeing the criminals’ hideout.

On the way, while the Reeve leads both his and Carter’s horse through the dark road, Carter managed to learn the story behind the dead mother and son, while also getting names to go along with their pale, still faces. Tessi Morassin and Brallo Morassin were the wife and youngest child of Cado Morassin, a popular tailor who had a thriving business back in Culvert’s Rock. The three members of the Morassin family had been returning from a month-long trip to the capital when their carriage was attacked by highwaymen on the road. One of their servants had managed to escape and call for help. When the guardsmen arrived at the site of the ambush, they found Cado dead, his wife and son missing. The Reeve set up a large search party which began to scour the woods near the attack site in an attempt to apprehend the attackers as well as rescue the missing Morassins.

That had been a week ago. As the days passed with no sign of the killers and their hostages, hope dwindled and the searching ceased. It wasn’t until last night when the Reeve was returning with his entourage from business at a neighboring shire, that they had a breakthrough. They found Carter wandering the road all by his lonesome, and in doing so learned the sad fates of Tessi and Brallo Morassin.

Upon reaching the bandit cave, Lannok had Carter wait at the entrance with two of his men while the rest of the posse entered the den. The Reeve emerged sometime later, his face paler and his countenance much more grim.

“In the name of the city of Culvert’s Rock, I thank you for your aid in this matter, Ser Lee,” Lannok had told him while shaking his hand. “You did us a service not only in informing us of this band but of slaying two of their dread number. I swear that I will do everything in my power to make sure the rest of these bastards face the justice of the gallows, not only for the Morassins, but also for the grief and terror they have no doubt put you through. You have my word.”

The Reeve then had two of his men escort Carter into the city. The night was still quite dark so he didn’t get to see much of Culvert’s Rock as he and his two bodyguards approached the settlement. From what he could tell though, the city was quite big in size, comparable to a large town in the United States. Like many fantasy cities he had seen in movies and read about in books, this one had a wall surrounding it. It was made of sturdy gray stone and rose up about thirty feet. The main gates were closed, though a small contingent of guards was assembled next to the gatehouse nearby. In the daytime, the gate would most likely be open, letting in long lines of people who were coming and going into the city. Carter noticed several groups of people encamped near the walls, many with wagons and horses hitched next to them. These were probably the travelers who had arrived too late in the day and thus were stopped from getting into the city when the gates closed.

Thankfully, Carter didn’t have to camp out along with them. The Reeve’s men ushered him through the gates, bypassing the usual process that would have met him upon entering the city. The scene that met him within the walls was one of dark streets and shadowy buildings. Unlike the cities of his world, it seemed as if the inhabitants of Culvert’s Rock slept quite early. Despite the lit candles of streetlamps at every street corner, the illumination they gave out was quite dim. Carter would have easily lost his way in the eerie, dark city if it weren’t for his two escorts who seemed, unsurprisingly, quite familiar with the area.

They led him through the shadowy streets to one of the nicer inns in town. Thankfully, it was not the Angelissa. Carter had no desire to run into Ugly or any of his gang there.

The guardsmen informed him that since he was a guest of the Reeve, his stay at the inn would be covered by the city. The two men then left with a promise to come by in the morning to see how he was doing. The rest of his time that night was a blur, but Carter recalled having a quick meal of some bland meat and vegetables, as well as taking a hot bath before collapsing into bed and passing out swiftly.

“I’m in another world,” Carter said to himself, still somewhat unable to believe it. He glanced down at his chest, noticing the well-defined pecks and abdominals he once more possessed. “And in my old body.”

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One of the furnishings in the small room was a small, oval mirror set atop a desk by the window. Carter got out of bed and made his way toward it. He stood in front of the mirror and began to examine himself, in awe at the image of a person he had not seen in over twenty-odd years.

His younger, twenty-something-year-old self looked back at him from the mirror. It was the body he remembered having so long ago, the one that he had worked so hard to gain with countless push-ups, crunches, squats, and mile-long runs. Somehow, it was now his again. He admired his regained muscles, the darker shade of his hair, and the smoother, wrinkle-free skin of his face.

It wasn’t just his looks that had changed. Inside, he felt spectacular as well. His back and shoulders didn’t ache as it usually did in the mornings. His breathing felt steadier, each deep breath he took into his lungs feeling much smoother. Even his eyesight seemed sharper, less blurred by the ravages of time.

Unfortunately, his new/old body wasn’t completely blemish-free. His injuries from yesterday were still there, both on his left palm and the knuckles of his right fist. Thankfully, the inn had provided him with plenty of clean cloth so he was able to wrap up his damaged parts in fresh bindings.

The dark-haired man looked down at his hands, seeing the fresh blood stains on the once-clean bandages. It would probably be a good idea to change them again. He unwrapped the cloth from his hands only to be surprised at what he found underneath them. Last night, his hands were completely damaged. The punctures on his left palm had started to bleed again, and from their puffiness, Carter had assumed they had become infected. The knuckles on his right hand were also still bleeding and he was sure he would need some stitches to keep the wounds closed.

Now the wounds were gone. In place of the gashes and bloody marks was smooth, undamaged skin. The only remnants of the wounds he had received were faint, pale scar marks across his flesh. Carter touched the skin of his healed left palm, his fingers tracing over the circular scars where the wounds from the goblin’s bite had once been. This was definitely not normal. It should have taken weeks for such injuries to have healed. This has to be the work of magic, there was no other explanation. But was it natural for wounds in this world to heal so quickly, or was it just him?

This strange phenomenon was just another reminder that he was not on Earth anymore. This strange world just kept piling on surprises. Hopefully, he could prepare himself properly, or the next surprise could end up killing him.

Carter moved over to the nearby window and pulled one of the curtains back. What he saw contrasted sharply with the scene of the city he had seen during the night. Outside, the sun was shining brightly down upon a busy and vibrant town. People filled the streets below, coming and going on their daily business, the sounds of their voices, laughter, and movements making their way through the glass panes of the window and into his ears.

It was so different from the cities he was used to. There were no cars rushing through the streets, no planes flying in the air. Although bustling, without the machinery that so pervaded the cities of Earth, the streets below were not as loud as the ones at home. It was quite charming, in a way.

A sudden knock on his door tore his attention away from the sight of the busy city outside.

“Come in,” Carter said aloud.

A young woman in her late teen years entered the room, carrying a small bundle of cloth in her arms. She was pretty, in an ordinary sort of way, and was dressed in a simple but clean dress. She took two steps into the room before stopping when she caught sight of him, her big brown eyes widening and face turning bright red.

Shit, thought Carter. He just realized that he standing in the middle of the room in just his skivvies.

“I, um, I brought you y-yer clothes, Ser!” stammered the flustered young girl. Her eyes locked onto Carter’s bare chest and arms before forcing herself to look away. “And yer shoes. All clean and bulging, er, I mean sparkling! I’ll, uh, leave it here for you!” She placed the bundle atop a nearby desk, then rushed out of the room. Her face was still beet red as the door slammed closed behind her.

“Huh,” Carter said to himself with a smirk. It had been a long, long time since a girl that age had looked at him in any way other than absolute boredom or disgust. “That’s definitely gonna take some getting used to.”

He checked the bundle she had left and saw that inside the cloth were his shoes and suit, minus the dirt, mud, and grime of yesterday’s events. Carter was definitely impressed since he didn’t think this inn would have been capable of cleaning the suit. It was dry clean only, after all! His shoes were also nice and polished to a mirror shine, just as he liked them.

Carter quickly got dressed lest any other poor maiden enters his room to be shocked upon seeing his half-naked state.

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An hour later found him downstairs in the tavern, seated at a table by the window. He had ordered a late breakfast from the barkeep, which was technically a late lunch since he had woken up well past noon. The meal was a fried fish of some sort along with a bowl of potato chowder. The fish was lightly salted, which made it much tastier than the meal he had eaten last night. Sadly, the chowder had no seasonings whatsoever, so it was pretty bland.

He was almost done with his food when he spotted one of the yellow-and-green-jacketed guardsmen enter the establishment. He was pretty young, looking no older than eighteen. The youth looked around the tavern before spotting him.

“Greetings, Ser,” the guard bowed low as he stepped up to his table. “Might you perhaps be Ser Lee of Lacotia?”

“Yeah, sure,” Carter said. With his newly clean suit, he definitely looked the part of a wealthy aristocrat. Well, when compared to the other patrons of the inn, anyway. Most of the others inside the tavern were dressed in clothing consisting of coarse fabrics and dull colors. Compared to their obviously homemade garments, his off-the-rack, department store suit was of much finer quality.

“Reeve Lannok wishes to meet with you, Ser,” said the guard. “We may have caught one of the perpetrators who attacked you. The Reeve needs for you to identify him.”

Did they catch one already? Carter thought as he smiled. Medieval cops might be a bit more competent than I thought they would be.

“Let’s go, then,” Carter told the guardsman.