Chapter 31

Day 86 & 87:

The two men popped into existence at the Final Harbor portal just as Svend and Skyald were departing the Arena. Both stopped dead, staring at John and Ellis. John nodded a greeting, but received only blank stares in return.

“Just my luck.” John muttered.

Ellis was rubbernecking, as much as he could in the fading sunlight.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“Those two,” John pointed, “I was hoping to keep my Traveler ability secret. It’s not like I can trust anyone here.”

Ellis’s eyes searched for the subject of John’s unhappiness.

“You’re out in the open here. Someone was going to spot you, eventually.” He said philosophically.

John sighed. “You’re right. It’s just ... One of those guys teaches me how to fight with an ax, and the other has his own reasons for disliking me.”

“Any rules against kicking their asses?” Ellis mused.

“No idea.” John admitted. “The King said no fighting once we leave, but nothing about the rules in town. I’ll put that on my ‘to-do’ list.”

“Item number four hundred and thirty-seven.” Ellis quipped.

“Somewhere around there.” John agreed. “Let’s go, it looks like they’re not moving until we do.”

He was correct. The two Raiders brazenly followed Ellis and John to the small building he now shared with Rorik’s family. Sygraid’s Adept powers were already paying dividends for the group. The Shield-maiden still had a harder time learning new powers, though not as hard a time as Hal. It was Treb who consistently found ways to expand their repertoire. He’d had an ingenious idea after talking with John one evening about heat transfers. He’d then experimented with it every night during the trek, until he could perform it reliably, then showed his mother. The trick was this: heating a pool of water while simultaneously cooling (or freezing) a separate container (or two). When Sygraid demonstrated a hot shower, plus refrigeration to the King, she’d been an instant hit. Even in the North, temperature control had its uses.

In exchange for her services once a day, the King secured a small home for her. There was a flurry of new construction in the town, followed by a line of women who were ready to pay gold for Sygraid to duplicate the feat for each of them. She was kept so busy, just in the first day, that she’d bartered for a few wives’ husbands to take her place conducting training with the Watchmen. Rorik and Runa were already angling to eventually use the income to open a new inn and tavern.

One of the concessions John had wrung from Kort was an exemption for Rorik to remain behind during the Raid. John had earned enough respect from the King that when he described Rorik’s recent history, and argued that the refugees needed at least one leader who could stick up for them, Kort had readily agreed. The Raider even promised to discuss the situation with the Kings Past, so the Commander would have a little support if it became necessary.

The Watchmen themselves were all bunked in a barracks-style guard tower nearby. John had offered their services to bolster the town’s own guard. Their duties consisted mainly of standing overnight watches, always paired with an equal or greater number of Raiders, but came with a small stipend. The refugees were all nearly starving, so the money was sorely needed. Such an overwhelming influx of people was bound to cause issues, but between Sygraid, Rorik and John, plus Lada and a couple other women they were keeping a lid on things. Some women were hot-bunking in the barracks tower, while others had accepted offers from interested Raiders. The situation wasn’t easy for anybody, but no one got out of control, on either side.

John and Ellis stomped through the door to the house, and were greeted by Runa.

“This is my ... friend, Jeff Ellis.” John introduced. “He is from my world, and doesn’t speak your language yet.”

Rorik’s wife smiled at Ellis, and bowed deeply. She motioned them to sit at the small table while she fetched some food.

“That’s Runa, she’s the wife of my main ... uh, lieutenant, I guess. Though XO might be better.” John explained to Ellis. “He’s a little older, but tough as a bucket of nails. Solid leader, too. We’ve had some rough times lately, and he really pulled us through.”

“Runa, wife of Rorik. Got it.” Ellis repeated.

The woman hustled back in, arms full of drinks and food. She set them down and Ellis dutifully parroted “thank you” in Norse to her.

“It was no trouble.” Runa assured him, which John translated.

They started eating, as John continued.

“Rorik’s other wife, Sygraid is ... wel―l”

“Lord Jyon!” Sygraid boomed, barging through the door with Treb at her heels. “Why are two Raiders standing down the street just staring at our new home?”

“—better seen than explained.” John finished.

Ellis’s eyes were saucers as he examined the Shield-maiden.

“You weren’t kidding!” He sub-vocalized.

“Sygraid, Trebuchet, this is my friend Jeff Ellis. He returned with me from my world today.” John made the introductions. “Top, this is Sygraid and her son, Trebuchet. I haven’t told you about the boy yet, but for reference, he’s eight or so.”

Ellis choked, as he was taking this in while trying to shake hands. The Northmen kept going for his forearm, which was throwing him off. The mother and son went to clean up after they’d all exchanged greetings. John heard her yelling for one of the Watchmen, out back.

“Get a couple more Watchmen.” She barked. “There might be trouble this evening.”

Feeling more secure when they’d resumed their seats, John continued. “He’s a hell of a kid, too. Got caught in a bad situation with us, but he’s held his own. Already killed a few, which sucks, but a hell of an Adept.”

“Adept at what?” Ellis asked.

“Magic. And not sleight-of-hand, either. Real magic. The kind you see in movies.” John replied.

“Magic.” Ellis dead-panned. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Nope. Not fucking with you, Top. They have actual, honest-to-god magic here. Along with dragons, dwarves, elves,” John tapped his ear, “and even Valkyries. It’s somewhat like what you’d expect, but none of the words match up with anything from back on Earth.”

“Holy shit!” Ellis exclaimed. “You have a pointed ear! Okay, son I need you to stop, and go back to the beginning. ‘Cause this sounds like some crazy shit!”

The story was several hours in telling. Meanwhile, Rorik, the two wives, and all their (surviving) children came in, washed, and ate silently as John talked. They slipped into the bedroom long before he finished.

“I ... can’t even―don’t know where to start!” Ellis admitted. “You swear, all of that is one hundred percent true?”

John held up a scout salute. “As god is my witness.”

“Well, hell, no wonder those fuckers wanted to grab you.” Ellis realized. “You’re a fucking golden ticket to Wonka World, and if they can control you, they’ll own this whole planet too!”

They called it a night after that, agreeing to resume in the morning.

Trouble didn’t find them during the night, but shortly after dawn, just as the family was sitting down to a quick breakfast, an armored, and well-armed troop of more than ten Raiders barged in. John and the family heard sounds of a struggle through the doorway, and he hoped that didn’t mean any of the boys had been killed. Svend brought up the rear, saying something John didn’t catch to whoever remained outside.

The Raiders quickly surrounded the table, allowing Svend to swagger over and shove Rorik’s youngest son, Ulmyr, a ten-year-old boy and Treb’s best friend out of his chair.

“Out of the way, boy!” Svend ordered. “Us men have business to attend to.”

Ulmyr popped back to his feet, glaring silently. Svend just laughed in the boy’s face.

“Grab him, and keep him quiet.” Svend said, turning to John.

The previous two months had been hard on the boy. Of Rorik’s children, half were now dead, the boys both perishing during the trek. Ulmyr’s only remaining blood sibling was his only sister, Rona who was two years older. He’d learned to be quick on his feet, and to put action before words. He rolled back, and wormed his way through the Raiders’ legs behind him. He dashed through the door into the bedroom, with two men on his heels. They returned a minuted later, shaking their heads.

“Out the window, boss.” One reported. “It’s too small for us.”

Svend grimaced, thinking for a moment.

“To the cold with him.” He declared. “With all of you. Bring them.”

Hands clamped down on John’s arms. They yanked him to his feet. At the same time, he saw a knife put to Treb’s throat, followed by a meaningful look to Sygraid from that Raider. The Shield-maiden gritted her teeth, but allowed two men to guard her without protest. Rorik and Ellis too were taken. The Commander’s obedience was secured by leaving one of Svend’s men behind with Runa and Rona.

“Nice friends you got here.” Ellis muttered in English.

“Silence!” Svend ordered. “If you speak again a language I do not know, I shall cut your throat now and be done with you.”

Ellis’s eyebrows shot up, but he made no further comment.

Outside they found two Watchmen held in place with a sword at each of their throats.

“Stay calm.” Rorik instructed as they walked past.

Svend’s men marched them through town to Kort’s new residence. A swelling crowd of early risers began to follow in their wake. The noise the townspeople made as word spread brought the King himself to greet them from the top of his steps. John briefly spotted Lada’s face through the open doors before she jerked out of sight. Ujya lay on the veranda, to the side. The animal’s eyes tracked the approaching mob impassively.

“Svend, what is the meaning of this?” Kort called when the group reached the stair bottom.

“I was departing the Arena last evening when Skyald and I saw the newcomer, Jyon and this man,” he pointed at Ellis, “appear from the shadows. They were standing on the funeral stone, and though it was nearing nightfall, we could see well enough to know they had not just been hiding.”

Kort’s eyebrows rose. “And what did Jyon and his new companion say about this, when you asked?”

“We did not ask.” Svend admitted. “Both of us were surprised beyond words.”

Kort frowned. “Then what happened?”

“We followed them back to the house you gave to Sygraid.” Svend explained. “We were able to see Jyon and this stranger conversing in a language neither of us know. Then they posted guards from their war-band and we had to withdraw.”

“Would you not post guards, if you were strangers and had been followed by two of the city’s most dangerous Evolved?” Kort posed.

Svend looked unhappy. “They are plotting something! You know I did my Challenge when I lived in Joryndarfil. That season, before we reached the Cyclone Tower we journeyed far to the South, where the Black River oozes into the sea. The city there, called Necropolis is filled with all manner of the undead. It is ruled by the blood-drinker clan, the Vamphyr Shadow Lords. I even saw one of them, and that one too could step from shadow to shadow, like a man steps from stone to stone across a river.”

Kort blinked. “Are you saying that Jyon, who we faced in the Grand Melee, and this new man,” he paused, looking at John.

“Jeff. Ellis.” John answered.

“Yeff Eels,” Kort continued, “are Vamphyr, from the Death Swamp?”

A ripple of laughter came from the crowd at Kort’s derisive tone.

“I am not sure.” Svend admitted. “My eyes see better now, than they did then. I am only saying that they are not to be trusted!”

“Jyon,” Kort addressed him, “you said your people already know this. Please have one of them tell us why you were able to appear on the funeral stone.”

John looked around, finding nearly all of the surviving Watchmen standing in an arc behind Svend’s Raiders. They each carried a shield, wore a helmet, and rested a hand on a sheathed pommel. Grim eyes bored into the men guarding their Commander and the others.

“Cayne,” John caught the man’s gaze, “where am I from?”

“You are from the End, Lord Jyon!” The Watchman barked.

Svend’s head jerked around, eyes widening as he realized his predicament.

“And before that? How do I use the funeral stones?” John prompted.

Cayne winked at Svend, earning a glare. “You have told us that you travel to our world using the stones. I have seen you use them many times.”

Kort held up his hands to quiet the murmur that comment generated.

“Jyon came to me, yesterday and explained this. The world he travels here from is different than our own.” He announced. “This man, Yeff Eels is another warrior from that place. Welcome to the Harbor, elder.”

Ellis nodded back when the King addressed him.

“What’s he saying?” He hissed to John.

“He greeted you, and said you were welcome here. He’s the ... they call it King, but it’s more like local lord. Maybe a baron or duke, I don’t really know nobility.”