Written by Kerry Townsend & Samuel Wambold
Chapter 1 – Home, Not Really
I’ve lost the loud bravado that was once my daily fare. I’ve taken a long look, deep within myself. These days I rarely seek out conversation. I walk a lonely trek. In some ways, I’m also more contented and more worrisome than I was. Ha, I am a walking paradox!
I really believed that eight years time should have been enough. It seemed right. After all, I was a grown man out in the great big world at twenty-two. So it was time to find out why fear ruled my home town and forced me to leave. I was also here to see my far and mor. Until I had my answers, the reunion would stay formal.
After spending a few months in Ryia, I was rested well enough to take a leisurely trek north to Frostport. Just in time to enter on the anniversary of my exile. This time of year the air has a snap of chill to it. The ocean is more calm as the ice comes south a little, the seabirds are in to roost and by now, most of the leaves have dropped after having turned orange, vermilion and blue. What a colorful carpet to welcome the lost son of Frostport. To me, the timing seemed just dramatic enough.
On the road, a few days walk from the seaport where I was born, I came upon Piltain and Carden. They were now a couple of truckers that worked the road between Ryia and Frostport. But, I had known them in Frostport before they were teens, when they used to bully me around. They failed to recognize me. I guess my appearance had changed a lot from the baby-faced 14-year-old that I was then, to the bearded fellow they saw now. When they asked, I said simply that everyone calls me Gwynn. Momma & Pappa used to call me that. Lately it’s been the name I use, just in case. They welcomed me and we shared a small wild piglet they already had on a spit over a healthy fire. My contribution to our evening meal was a loaf of way bread and some sticks of Brittle Tea. In conversation, I told of some of my adventures and they told me all about Ryia and Frostport. We enjoyed each others company two more days and nights on the way into town.
We entered Frostport walking along Rose Lane. They continued on, pulling their cart-loads north to the warehouse near the jetty and I headed east to “The Rare Cup” Inn. Once inside, I spoke to the owner’s wife, a handsome woman, paid for my room and went straight up to settle in as it was almost midday.
When I came back down later, I chose an out-of-the-way table and ordered something to eat. Ellendia, the owner’s chatty daughter, asked what I would like to drink with that. I asked for a small glass of chilled Arabellum and she warned me that the price was 1 Yeupar for a glass. I said that after such a long journey, it was called for. While I enjoyed the meal and the Arabellum warmed me, I surveyed the large room. At the bar was Alever and Malmury the masons, Cellora the apothecary, and Nils the Librarian. Oh right, he prefers to be addressed as the Town Clerk. At a table were Caybi and Jakki, they’ve grown into a good-looking couple. Brothers, Buffynn and Saamo at another table. Four familiar looking young people together at a table; Kew and Pella, Kjendia and Vala. I later found out these four were out ‘cupping.’ And there were several other faces I did not recognize.
After eating and after more than an hour of politely listening to Ellendia talk on and on about her boredom in this little town, I began thinking about another glass of Arabellum, when Piltain and Carden came in.
“Ellendia! My friends have settled their business and come in to take their ease. Please bring a bottle of Arabellum and two more glasses?”
Ellendia and the truckers were openly surprised at the offer. It amused me to remember that it’s said that Arabellum is so expensive and gentle that no-one is rich enough to get drunk on it. As Ellendia moved to her task and Piltain and Carden took seats, Piltain asked, “Gwynn, you gladden my heart with such an expensive invitation. How have we earned this?”
I said, “You have not but you may yet. I’m not familiar with this small village and wish to cure that problem with your help.”
After the bottle arrived and their glasses were filled, I began to gently guide the conversation to find out more about the people around town, with some focus on those in the tavern with us. I learned that Gelund and Katin’s son Dolmund was working steady now as a trucker and that he was courting Ellendia. Dolmund’s parents had accepted oversight of the town warehouse a few years ago. They seemed to have recovered fairly well from the loss of their daughter. I heard about the four young people and heard about several others when someone mentioned sad, sad Agnaar. With great restraint I gently asked concerning him. “Why do you mention this man Agnaar’s saddness? ”
Carden told me that a handful of years ago Agnaar and his wife fell into long periods of silence with deep lines of worry and concern on their faces. Everyone close to them, most of the town, would ask after them and seek them out to find out what was causing the deep sadness. Mmm . . . that would have started shortly after my departure. I remember those approaching days with the clarity of a fresh slap in the face…