The Rokkoh Adventures

Rokkoh and the Old Woman, Chapter 9

A rooster crows somewhere outside. The sudden sound rouses me from my slumber. The house is quiet, and the room is dark. The candles on the walls still hold little wax pillars that drip down to the base. Blown out, despite the lack of an open window, or a window at all. In the corner of the room, huddled in front of the other beds, are three little figures. They stand, still as statues, watching. As my eyes adjust to the low light, the scared faces of Hagen, Josah, and Elysiha come into view. Their once-white tunics are stained and dirty, the substance I cannot tell. The older boy, despite the quiver that runs through his body, wields a kitchen knife. He points it with a weak hand in my direction.

"Don't move," he warns, shaky.

I get up from the bed, stretch my limbs, and yawn. The red book waits by my feet, likely having taken a tumble at some point in the night. I pick it up, and all three sets of eyes watch with a curious lingering look. With a long arm, I offer it to them.

"Your pig had nice penmanship toward the end," I say as the smaller boy snaps it out of my hand.

"Get out of our house," the armed one orders.

"What's your name, kid? Are you Hagen?"

The question catches him off guard. For a confused moment, he can't remember, or he contemplates offering a lie. He confirms my guess and reaffirms his grip on the blade.

"A word of advice: get yourselves out of the Everglow Wood," I tell him. "Go to Fiona's Rest. Head all the way down to Hemwood for all I care. Just don't stay here. The ghosts that linger here will only drive you mad."

"We're not going to let you kick us out of our own home!" Hagen protests. "I don't care about ghosts. We're not going anywhere. You just want it for yourself, squatter!"

"I don't want your house," I groan. "You kids are going to starve if you stick around with no one to take care of you."

"We can fend for ourselves just fine," the other boy, Josah, chimes in. "There are berries and rabbits all around."

"What are you even going to do if we refuse to leave?" Hagen adds. "Get your friend to come kill us too?"

"What friend?" My own confusion comes out at the comment. "Were you too enthralled by the depravity to notice Max was bound and gagged too?"

"The demon, stupid," Hagen and Josah sneer with the younger one's retort, a nasty little scowl on both of their dirty faces. "When Scommortod was supposed to come watch, they came instead. All in black, ruthless."

"They made it sound like you were friends," the little girl says, quiet and small. "Knew your names. Called the lady Nana."

The girl hides behind Hagen. Elysiha holds a stuffed rabbit close to her chest as she stares at the floorboards to avoid looking at the big scary man. Something odd in her words catches my curiosity, and perhaps the littlest child looks away knowing she let slip a secret. I kneel in my spot as I focus on her; she peeks for a moment but hides once more.

"I don't remember hearing them say anything, especially not before you all ran off," I say to her.

"Leave her alone," Hagen jabs the knife in my direction as a warning.

"Well, they didn't really say it," Elysiha says, sheepish. Her hug on the toy rabbit tightens. "They thought it."

Ah, the revelation. My intrigue doesn't withhold itself.

"Can you read minds, little one?" I ask.

"That's enough!" Hagen yells.

The boy lunges forward. It's a small gap to close, only a step or two, and he clears it in the blink of an eye. His knife, a simple little blade designed to slice meat with ease, aims for my neck. It comes close, but my hand rises and with a quick slap knocks it away. It clangs against the wood of the floor, and Hagen freezes. Eyes wide and fearful, he watches as I pick up his little weapon. With the hilt facing him, I hold it out. He takes it back, eying it as if it is going to bite. When he realizes that it won't, he lowers it to his side and steps back to his siblings.

"Get to Hemwood," I tell the boy again. He nods, slow and solemn.

"It's a long way," Josah comments. "How will we get there?"

"The gods gave you feet, didn't they?" I answer.

"We won't go far without some coin for food or supplies," Hagen suggests. "And we have no valuables to pawn or barter with."

The door kicks open, and Max storms in. Rapier at the ready, he lets out a war cry that makes the children jump. Or perhaps the black eye, busted lip, and various bruises are what scare them. Strapped to his back is a bundle: a rolled linen blanket bound by leather straps. Several hilts stick out of the top. Nana follows shortly after, giving her classic GRAAAH and brandishing her talon fingers. A burlap sack hangs from her back. She looks natural in her fine dress, normal. The only odd thing about her is her lack of bruises. They must be hiding under all the cloth.

"Everything okay?" he asks after a long quiet moment, his fighting stance unyielding.

"You got here just in time," I answer, flat but with a smirk. "The big one was just about to gut me. I was completely unable to defend myself."

"Alright, alright," Max chuckles, easing up and sliding the rapier into the sheath at his hip. Nana follows suit.

"Someone get a new toy?" I rise to my feet, eying the intricate guard of the polished gold hilt. I point to the collection on his back. "And some souvenirs?"

"We could make some nice extra money," he reasons.

"Speaking of which..."

I reach for his belt and unfasten the bag of coin. It feels light, but to be fair we did spend a hefty amount to make the old woman happy. Max wraps a hand around my wrist, his dark eyes questioning me. I wrench out of his grasp with a quick pull, shooting him a look of warning. My attention goes back to the children; I toss the little coin purse to Hagen.

"That's all we have left," Max groans in a whisper.

"Like you said," I respond over my shoulder, "we can sell those swords.

"Be safe on the road, kids. If anyone you meet seems off, like they want to do bad things, either stick them with the pointy end or run. Okay?"

They each nod before filing out.

"Where did you even find those?" I ask Max once the children are gone.

"Crazy cultists had a stash of stuff in their room," he answers with a bright grin. "Raided their pantry for some extra food, too. We should be set for a while. They even had some of that pork left!"

"Leave it," I tell him, quick and hot. He scrunches his eyebrows in confusion, but obeys. He digs into Nana's pack, pulling out a lumpy ball of cloth and dropping it on the floor.

"Bad meat?" Nana guesses.

"You don't wanna know," I tell her with a faded smirk. "Trust me.

"Anything other than the weapons worth anything?" I ask Max, leading us through the small house and out the front door. Our horses wait not far away, walking around out of idle boredom.

"Not really," Max says, calling the equine beauts with a sharp whistle. "Didn't even find any gold lying around. Just the little horde of blades and some clothes."

"Probably best we didn't take too much," I reason, climbing onto my horse. "Don't need to weigh ourselves down with too much shit."

"I guess you're right." Max helps Nana onto the back of my horse, then mounts his own. We get back onto the road and follow it back toward the main stretch. I keep an out for the three children, but they are nowhere to be found. We turn north, and I say a little prayer for the new orphans. Who knows which Novhina would hear it, let alone answer my call for their protection and guidance, but it puts my troubled heart at ease.