Tallowcross

Chapter 1: Incident in Tallowcross

Incident in Tallowcross

(Tallowcross, Northernmost Province of the Realm)

The tall lighthouse dominated the small harbour of Tallowcross, the glass crown visible from every part of the small town. On the curving whitewashed walls, a spiral stripe of peeling red paint rose with a dark set of windows to the top. By royal decree, the faceted light inside had not been lit in years, any contact to the north forbidden.

Moonlight glistened across the rippled water of the harbour, illuminating the masts and rigging of the gently swaying boats.

The crumbled ruin of the guard tower lay to the west of the harbour; its tumbled walls lay as they had fallen.

"How long's it been?" Rudi asked, motioning with his tankard. His voice was almost lost in the windy night, his misty breath blowing quickly away. Rain was approaching, and the advancing clouds would soon block out the gibbous moon.

On the distant horizon across the river, a dark forest spread down to a line of thin white beaches.

"Twenty years, lad. Twenty years, as sure as I stand here." Gillist the landlord pulled at the young man's tunic. "Night of the Raven." A monotone element slipped into his speech. "Same night they blew the tower. Same night they deserted Ferryton."

Rudi still resisted. "The town's still dark."

"Aye, dark it'll stay too!" Gillist's tone sharpened, "They're shamed to set foot in it. Treacherous bastards. Come back inside; you're letting a' the warm out!"

Rudi let the old man drag him inside the tavern. "Isn't anyone curious? Isn't it about time someone found out?"

"Found out what?" The landlord slammed the door closed behind them.

"If they've really gone."

"Ha! An' that would be you, would it?" Gillist cuffed Rudi's ear, sending him ducking towards the bar. "Two years in the King's service an' you think you're man enough to go skulking in the north?"

Rudi sat on the high stool and leant on the bar. "I learnt a few things."

"Pity prudence wasn't one of them." The landlord shook his head. "We've not had too many question the orders. The sign says 'No ferry crossings until further notice.' An' that's good enough for me, an' it should be good enough for the likes o' you."

Gillist took position behind the bar, in front of Rudi, cleaning glasses with a very white cloth.

"I'll have one Sheep Dip before I leave." Rudi pointed towards a bottle on the top shelf. He put both elbows on the bar. "It's time to put something warm down my throat."

Gillist's daughter came out from behind the bar balancing two plates of stew.

"Evening Cassia," Rudi revived instantly, sitting up straight.

"Master Rudi." She smiled over her shoulder as she slid the plates on the far table. The tavern's only two other customers eyed her considerable bosom as she dipped low.

Gillist loudly slapped a pale yellow drink on the bar, which snapped back Rudi's attention. Traces of the liquid's stormy journey hung in thick, diminishing waves on the side of the glass, but the innkeeper had not spilt one drop. Still thinking guilty thoughts of young Cassia, Rudi held the glass up to the candlelight. The flame danced in the liquid, fragmented by the ornate crystal, sending fluttering yellow chevrons over his face.

"Twenty year's a long time to ban the ferry!" Rudi feigned concentration on his one Sheep Dip.

"Doesn't matter how long it was ago, the ferry ban came from the King."