Chapter 4
Nis awoke from sleep to find himself in a bed, the first one he'd been in since... Well, since then. The room was small but clean and comfortable. There was a small table at one side and a chair by it. He was still in his clothes, but his worn leather boots were sitting by the chair. The bed he was laying in had cream colored sheets and a maroon down blanket. It had some embroidery on the upper left corner, the inns symbol. There was a single window on the far wall with the shutters drawn.
He got up out of bed and put on his boots. He must have slept all afternoon because the light coming through the cracks of the shutters was fading. There were voices talking downstairs, he couldn't understand them though. He stretched and walked down the squeaky stairs, his feet making a clacking noise with each step. As he reached the foot of the stairs he saw the lodge master sitting with Gimble and talking. The lodge masters’ second was leaning in a corner which seemed to be his preferred stance. Nis approached them and cleared his throat. The lodge master turned, "Ah it looks like your guest is up, Gimble, my friend."
"That it does, Danny. Perhaps he would like a drink. I'll go get one." Gimble gave the lodge master a conspiratorial look and was out of the room before anyone could say another word.
"Come, have a chair friend, we have come to a decision." the lodge master waited for him to take his seat before he continued, "we will be sending for reinforcements from Ravion and sending out messengers to the other three places guarding seals. We would like you to undertake one of these as well as a second task. We want you to seek out Shathgrim. He is the oldest of the remaining wizards and although he was not alive during the war of the seals, he may know what to do about this better than anyone else in all of Atherium." the lodge master paused. Nis was glad he had sat down because he couldn't feel his legs. I could sure go for some of that stuff I had before, he thought. The lodge master continued, "There are still a few days yet before you will be required to undertake these tasks. You will be provided with supplies, and if you wish, we can spare one or two soldiers to travel with you."
Gimble returned with another mug of the stuff Nis had had before, "thank you" he said, and immediately began to drink it down. The effect was somewhat lessened, probably takes some time to work, he mused. The lodge master was staring at him, half grin and half grimace. Nis idly wondered how he could do that, but his mind was a disaster zone. He couldn't form any solid thought for long. He was far too distracted with the assignment that he had been given. He, a simple blacksmith, who before now had never had cause to even venture out from the shadow, was supposed to not only pull messenger duty again, but also track down some powerful wizard too. He'd probably just laugh and turn me into a grasshopper as he walked away. That thought alone made Nis shiver with a little terror. He knew about wizards, or what the tales told of them at least. They didn't bother with most human affairs; they only got involved if it had some sort of direct effect on whatever they were up to at the time. And if perchance some mere man bothered them with something, that man would likely end up some sort of animal or bug, sometimes even an inanimate object. The only time those people had been heard of again was when they had either said something that actually intrigued the wizard or managed to somehow kill the wizard on accident, because of course no wizard would intentionally let themselves be killed, that would be foolish.
Things started to get fuzzy; Nis continued to take big gulps of his mug. The lodge master started chatting with Gimble, but Nis wasn't paying attention. Things started to look sharper than usual, everything was in high contrast; and a little off color too, on the edges of his vision light was dancing. Sounds seemed to come from far away and it felt like someone was holding a pillow over his ears. Everything was slow and he felt numb. His thoughts billowed slowly forming and unforming without being processed. He caught hold of one thought through the mist in his mind; I think I may have drank whatever that was too fast.
After some time he could feel the effects slowly slip away. Soon after, he became aware of his surroundings again; the lodge master and his second had left. There were a few other people at the bar talking and laughing with Gimble. Nis had apparently been walked over to a chair closer to the fire. He was thankful for that because as the last effects of his drink wore off, it seemed a side effect was that all the warmth drained from his body. But the fire was there to replace it. He sat there for a while letting the fire warm him and watching the people at the bar conversing with Gimble. One was dressed in the clothes of a cobbler, his large hands exaggerated and puffy from many years of use. The glasses on his head seemed to be there as a way of holding back his dark brown hair but were probably for intricate work when needed. The other seemed to be of his own trade, a smith. Nis recognized the familiar traits, char stained hands, well developed arms, and a sunburned face that spent far too long close to a forge fire. His singed red hair helped give him away too. The men were talking about their day as well as tossing rumors around like a cat tosses a ball of yarn.
Gimble was listening for the most part, but it was apparent to Nis that he was trying hard not to blurt everything that had been discussed earlier. Nis decided to test his legs and got up. He wobbled momentarily but steadied himself after that. He then walked over and sat at the bar next to the others. "Greetings friend," said the cobbler, "you don't look like you’re from ‘round these parts."
"No, you’re right, I'm not, and it seems I'll be leaving much sooner than I had thought I would be."
"Well what brings ya’, an’ what pulled ya’ away?" Nis didn't like proving questions like that, and it wasn't just since he had left. Catelin had been the only person he ever felt comfortable sharing things with. If anyone else asked questions he got nervous and would never give a fully honest answer.
"Oh, just business." he said as evasively as a murderer would that he had been sleeping that night. Apparently it was rather obvious because the cobbler dropped the line of questioning after that and just made idle banter with Nis, "Well it’s always nice to see someone new, don't you think Thomas?"
"Ya, as long as they ain't trying to kill you. What kind of business brings a blacksmith to these parts; I do all the smithing around here. You can't possibly be here for anything that I know of. But if you think he's alright Sam...” Nis felt the hair on his neck prickle, he didn't know what to do or say, he just simply froze.
He didn't know what to say, could he trust them, I hardly know them, he thought. "What do you mean?" he asked trying not to sound nervous.
"Ya Danny, what do you mean?" parroted Gimble, "he's not a smith, he's a farmer ya blind bat." Apparently Gimble hadn't gathered the whole story from the lodge master then, or maybe he's just playing along, thought Nis. Either way Nis decided the subject should be changed.
"That drink that you've been giving me Gimble, what is it? It seems to have very strange effects on me."
Gimble laughed, "Ah, that is the famous ghost wine, very good and very potent." Gimble said this last bit with a grin, one that reminded Nis of a potter he once knew who was able to make a lot of his works. Probably more than he should have.
"You got to be careful with that stuff though, it will leave you wanting more every time." The cobbler said in a matter of fact tone.
The smith, Danny nodded in agreement, "The stuffs more addictive than bandits ale." he turned an accusing eye on Gimble, and the man gave a weak smile.
"I only gave him a mug of it; he's the one who asked for more. Not my fault."
Nis wondered if it had really been Gimble’s intention to try and hook him on Ghost wine, the thought was lost as another person entered the room though. The door closed with a low thud and there stood a man in probably his later years, though not as close to death as others. His black hair was graying in spots, and he had more than a few lines on his face. He wore a robe and some boots made of some sort of white leather. The robe looked like it may have once been white too, however it had be so faded and stained that it was now as gray as some of the darker patches in his hair. Nis thought he remembered seeing someone dressed this way a long time ago, but he couldn't be sure. "It seems we have a visitor this eve Gimble, care to introduce me?"
"Of course, Mellarin, this here is Nis, he's a farmer all the way from the Shadow and Strim, Nis, that there is Mellarin, he's of the holy order of the Purists. Been living here in Loughtown for what now? A year, two maybe?"
Mellarin stepped into the light and sat at a table not far from the bar, his skin was icy white, brighter it seemed than his robe. And his eyes... Nis felt a shiver through his spine, his eyes were black, empty voids, spheres of crystal night. Mellarin turned them on Nis, "I see, a farmer from Strim eh? Curious, very curious, indeed." He turned away briefly and produced a pipe from his robes, the pipe looked like it was probably made from bleached ivory, it was as white as everything else the man wore. As he lit his pipe he refocused on Nis, and with some play at curiosity said, "Well farmer, what is it you farm?"
Nis wasn't sure how to answer, "uh" he couldn't think of a clever answer so he said the first food that came to his mind, "Grapes, I farm grapes." As he said it he knew it was a poor lie. But the old man seemed to believe him.
"Well that seems like a marketable trade, what brings a grape herder such as yourself to these parts?"
Once again Nis had no answer and responded with the first thing he could think of other than the truth, "I'm visiting family" he felt his lie crumble as it left his lips, if he was visiting family why wouldn't he be staying with them instead of the local inn? He waited for Mellarin to ask the question that would expose him, but it didn't come. Instead the old man looked at him with a half hidden smile and then made small talk with the others.
Nis sighed inwardly and leaned against the bar, happy to not be the subject of conversation again. He didn't pay very close attention to the conversation after that, his mind was swarming with thoughts the way a wasp’s nest swarms when a good sized stone is thrown at it, the voice of the lodge master was echoing in his head, the face of Caleb swam through his mind. There had been no trace, he could still be alive. This thought suddenly became a realization and a hope, he's alive, I just know it, thought Nis, I'll find you Caleb, I will find you!