Borne of Fire

Chapter 31

Rain began to fall softly around them as they stood watching the man slowly pick himself up from the ground. The larger raindrops hissed where they landed on embers which still smoldered and in some places where flames still guttered unnoticed in houses broken and ruined.

Randyl, Braxter, L'non and Ja'aris stood shoulder to shoulder beside Darek Drake who had dismounted from his horse and stood patting its neck gently with one hand while whispering soft words of reassurance in its ear.

The old man made a vague attempt at dusting himself off once he had gained his feet but on realising it was cold wet mud which covered him rather than anything he could easily be cleansed of, seemed to lose heart and instead stood looking back at the building he had just been expelled from, muttering under his breath.

"No more!" barked a voice from within. "We've told you before about it. You did this village a great service but enough's enough. We won't listen to any more of your...of your...rabble rousing!"

"Rabble rousing?!?! Rabble rousing?!?! Survival I'd call it more like, that's what I'd call it. Yes, I would. Or sense even, good old common sense." The man spoke more to himself than he made any attempt at being heard by anyone inside the building and he hadn't yet noticed anyone standing nearby witnessing the whole exchange.

"But no - you don't want to listen to that, you just cover your ears and pretend like everything's alright. Well it's not! No way may-day! No way it's not! Far from alright, far, far from it." He spoke rapidly, gradually getting himself more and more agitated as he went along until eventually the inevitable happened and the owner of the voice which had come from within the building finally heard.

"Enough!" It barked once more, louder than before and this time it was echoed by other quieter voices making indistinguishable murmurings of support. "You're done for today! Now get out of here McSween!"

Braxter, who had begun to feel sorry for the now damp and muddied old man, looked sharply at L'non in alarm.

"That's not..." he hissed at the watcher.

"Yes it is." L'non replied with a grin.

It was at that point that their presence was noted by the man who gave a start at seeing them for the first time so close by. His startled expression quickly disappeared and was replaced by recognition as he realised who it was he was looking at. He screwed up his eyes as if to get a better look at them in the dim morning light, even going so far as to rub his eyes with the heels of his hands in case they were indeed playing tricks on him.

"By the maker's beard! As I live and breathe! Not just one of you, but the both of you! Here and at the same time!" His hands ran through his thick, dark hair doing nothing to straighten its dishevelled look as it continued to stick out at all angles at the same time, then ran down the front of his body as he once again tried to straighten his clothes. He began to walk the short distance to L'non and Ja'aris who had themselves begun to walk towards him. "I had hoped and hoped but...not both of you...now we're going to get things done, that's for sure. Now's the time, now..." McSween began to ramble, the smile on his face getting broader and brighter as he closed the gap between himself and the two watchers.

Braxter had seen Ja'aris smile on more than one occasion in their short time of knowing one another - it was normally a sarcastic, cruel thing and usually at someone else's misfortune - but never had he seen him display a smile of such genuine warmth as he did now. Regardless of the mud or damp, he threw both his arms round the old man, hugging him close as only the oldest and greatest of friends would do.

"A la carre, my friend." McSween said through his smile.

"A la carre, my brother." Ja'aris replied.

Randyl smiled at Braxter, gave a slight shrug and clapped him on the shoulder, gesturing for him to walk with him to meet McSween as he and L'non exchanged a similar greeting.

"What's this McSween - have you been upsetting the nice people again?" L'non asked with a smile, putting emphasis on the word nice. Mcsween shook his head rapidly and grinned even wider.

"You want me to go straighten out a few things brother?" Ja'aris growled quietly and McSween actually laughed out loud at that.

"No Ja'aris, brar. That's not necessary. Although I thank you for the offer of course but that's not needed here." Once again he spoke rapidly, one hand running through his hair, the other by his side patting a random beat on his thigh. "I remember the last time you did that for me. Where was it now...? Oh yes - Loren Oakes, I remember. Six weeks before any of them could eat solids again. So, thank you most gratefully, but no thank you this time." He laughed and leaned towards Ja'aris, butting heads gently as the watcher shrugged and gave a laugh himself.

As McSween spoke to Ja'aris and L'non his eyes, like his hands, were never still. They roved and jerked left then right, up then down, never stopping as if they were trying to take everything in at once.

Eventually they stopped, however and fixed on Randyl. He looked quickly at Braxter, taking him in at a glance and then looked once again at Randyl.

"Oh yes...he's a real one. No doubt. No doubt at all." He licked his lips, quickly wetting them and ran both hands through his hair again. "Should've seen, should've seen. Should've expected something like this. And with the two of you here as well!" McSweens head bounced on his shoulders as he nodded vigorously, his face running through a host of emotions as he rambled - fear, excitement, joy, curiosity, fear again. Then he looked back at L'non. "Well?"

L'non gave a laugh before speaking. "They are friends of ours. Not long since made but fast already."

"Then introduce me, introduce me, please do." McSween raised both eyebrows expectantly.

"Of course. McSween, this is Braxter Kinross and Randyl Jeroll - both from the village of Brookdale. Braxter, Randyl - this is McSween Drossan...from places far too numerous to mention." L'non stood to one side as McSween reached forwards with an open hand, gripping Braxters and shaking firmly. He moved to take hold if Randyls hand then and shook it with even more vigour, even chuckling to himself as he did.

"Village of Brookdale, yes, yes, very good. Kinross. Jeroll..." Then he stopped. Stopped speaking, stopped smiling and stopped shaking Randyls hand. But he didn't let go of it. He looked up at the taller, younger man who had maintained a blank expression so far. McSween's tongue darted out to wet his lips once again. "Oh wow." he said, glancing at L'non and Ja'aris. "Oh you have to tell me everything now, oh yes." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a smile which was mirrored by Randyl. McSween looked down at his hand as if noticing for the first time that he still held onto Randyls own and began shaking it all over again.

"We figured you might want us to, my friend." L'non looked around them. "Do you have somewhere?"

"Yes, yes, yes I do. Of course." McSween let go of Randyls hand almost reluctantly his eyes still dancing up and down him rapidly. "Not much but not far either. And warm yes, and dry, yes. This way now, let's go. This way." He gestured with one hand while running the other through his hair and with a deep laugh led the way through the ruined buildings around them to what passed for his home.

Darek Drake stood chewing his lip as he watched the group walk away. It was early, the end of his watch and he was hungry. Things often got complicated when he got hungry. He patted his horse's neck again and thought about the situation, wondering what he should do which would cause the least problem. He had been told to keep look out for the monsters returning and report with great haste if he saw them or any sign of them returning. He was certain the men he'd seen hadn't been monsters and so he concluded that strictly speaking there was nothing to report. Having said that, he knew that he had just allowed four strangers to enter Heldaro unannounced. He also knew that two of the strangers were very strange indeed, and that they seemed to know McSween Drossan, himself not the most unremarkable person, as old friends. The situation was getting very complicated for him and he did so like things to be simple. And he was getting hungrier by the second. But watchers! In Heldaro! Yes, definitely, that was something which needed to be reported. Right away! They'd said they didn't want any trouble, and he believed them. Mostly. But it still needed reporting. He quickly tied his horse to the post outside the door to the tavern and went inside looking for anybody who might listen to his news. Anybody who might listen and perhaps fix him some breakfast.