Tallowcross

Prologue: Night of the Raven

Night of the Raven

Sandoval pulled hard on his oar, his calloused hands feeling every line of grain in the wooden handle. The oar swiveled in the rowlock, but the grease-soaked sackcloth kept sound to a slight hiss. At the stern of the boat, the tiller in his hand, Commander Juno craned his neck, constantly adjusting course as he looked over Sandoval's shoulder at the boat's trajectory.

To the north, over the river, over Commander Juno's head, two clouds were forming, which looked like the wings of a bird. Shaking his head, Sandoval bent to the task again.

As they entered the shallower water of the harbor, dark ships appeared to the left and right, and the moon flickered through the rigging of the ships to the east.

Soon, Juno leant forward. "Steady lads." He whispered, knowing his voice would carry to the bow pair. "Ship oars."

Sandoval pushed his oar handle down, lifting the blade clear of the water. The dripping of fresh water from the oars seemed to be amplified in the still waters of the small harbor. The boat kept its momentum in the calm, black shadow of the ships.

He lifted his oar clear of the rowlock, and placed it carefully along the middle of the boat.

With a low grinding noise, the boat arrived at the gravel beach of the harbor of Tallowcross.

Juno stayed low in the stern, the vessel now looking like any other boat in the harbor. He looked to his right at the tall deserted watchtower. Its windows were dark, and lifeless. Farther up the slope, the windows of the town were similarly inert.

The lighthouse, to their left, was lit, sending a steady yellow beam north. Its whitewashed walls seemed to glow silver in the rich moonlight. The spiraled red ridge was almost black in comparison.

"Causy, Grover, keep watch." Juno hissed. "Lads, take her ashore."

Sandoval climbed overboard, and stepped into cold, winter water up to his thighs. He pulled the boat up the shore, but not far. If they were discovered, they did not want the added effort of dislodging a fully beached boat. With the boat secure, Sandoval leant back inside the boat, and lifted his pack from under his seat. He adjusted the shoulder straps, and followed the man in front, their loud crunching steps ringing into the night air.

In seconds they had reached the door to the circular tower. Sandoval crouched as Commander Juno tackled the lock. His fingers worked swiftly, and he soon opened the studded door wide. From the faint light coming in the windows, Sandoval could see the floor lay almost completely covered in stacks of barrels.

Tallow.

"We place our powder near the wall." Juno said as the men passed, gathering in the tower. "Link all placements by a careful fuse."

Sandoval placed his pack next to the man in front, then got out of the building. Juno himself took a small keg, and sprinkled the whole area in powder, then carefully left the tower, walking backwards, trailing a thick fuse of powder.

"The Realm has overpriced us one time too many." Juno whispered, as the last man exited the tower. He poured a trail until the barrel was empty. "We will take their surplus. To the boat, lads; turn it round. Get ready to leave. You have to the count of sixty."

Sandoval ran to the boat, and pushed it off into the still harbor water, then with straining arms, slowly turned it to face north towards home.

The crew soon had the oars in the water, ready for action.

Suddenly, Commander Juno was racing down the gravel slope. He splashed into the harbor, and threw himself aboard. "Row!" he hissed.

As Sandoval strained to get some momentum, he looked at the beach, then saw a plume of smoke. There was little light shed from the burning, a high soot content kept the burn dark.

He bent his back into a rhythm with the others and watched the smoke near the tower. Just as they cleared the last of the ships in the harbour, the tower blew. At first it was just a low 'thump', then the windows exploded, sending yellow fire in every direction. Then the fire started, as one by one the tallow barrels were burst open.

Sandoval looked on as the bottom of the tower burst apart, causing it to tumble against the cliff wall, then back to the harbor, large bricks landing back into the conflagration.

"Row lads!" Juno roared, and their efforts were redoubled. The safety of Ferryton lay almost a mile away over the river estuary.

Before long, it was apparent that no pursuit was in evidence. The harbor was beginning to fill with onlookers, but their attention was taken with the tower, not looking out across the river for a lone rowboat.

"Medals galore tomorrow, lads," Commander Juno laughed, looking back over his shoulder at the Tallowcross townsfolk running to make bucket lines from the harbour. "The Skardaal Council will be happy with this outcome. Tomorrow night, we'll have purses full of coin, and a girl in your lap who's grateful to be there!"

Juno laughed slightly, but then his attention was taken by the sky. He stared open mouthed until most of the boat crew had lifted their oars clear of the water.

Sandoval maintained pressure on his oar, and looked over his shoulder to the north. To his amazement, the two clouds he had previously taken note of had firmed their appearance, and now were the spreading wings of a bird. Between them, the silhouette of a raven's head had grown; gigantic in the dark night sky.

~   ~   ~

Gillist ran headlong to the harbor. Shouts and orders were being barked into the moonlit night sky.

The fire in the tower was coursing out of every window, and a large plume of flame rose from the main door.

A line of villagers steadily grew, from the door to the water's edge. Buckets seemed to appear from nowhere and soon two lines carried the vital fluid from the harbor until it was thrown inside the tower.

Gillist joined a line near the water, and began to pass the buckets along. Then for some reason he stopped.

There was a steady roar, building like a crowd's crescendo.

"Grab the bucket!" the man next to him screamed.

Gillist shook his head, and ran up the line. "Get out of the way!" he roared at the surprised faces. "The tallow's going to blow! The Tallow's going up!"

The village made its livelihood making the precious liquid, and most of the townspeople in the line immediately realized the danger. In seconds the area cleared, then the centre of the tower surged outwards, showering the shoreline in flaming stones. The noise was overwhelming, and Gillist ran for the breakwater, pieces of stone flying over his head. He glanced back to see the tower's high summit crash down on the foundations. Again he was showered in a torrent of flying, burning debris.

He threw himself into the shallow water, rolling to extinguish the flames on his back that he sensed rather than felt. When he stood, his eyes were drawn from the tower's ruin to the sky in the north. Moonlight lit the jagged mountains on the far side of the wide black river.

In the sky were two clouds, like the wings of a bird. In the centre was the shape of a raven's head and beak.