Blood Knot

Chapter Three

Chapter Three:

'LAND AHOY!' The city of Chetwick shone in the distance. The candles from many homes were like fireflies on the horizon, with one huge bug lighting up the whole sky. The light house flame cast light over the whole harbour. Avoca leant on the railings, relieved to at last see land. Soon she would be walking on solid earth. The thought made her smile.

'What are you grinning about?' Falasson, the elf, said.

'I don't have to be around you much longer,' she teased. He growled playfully. 'I though you liked me?' He said, pretending to be hurt. 'Anyway, you should be glad we let you come with us back to Jarathia! Show some gratitude.'

'You didn't really have much choice,' Avoca said. 'If you had refused I would have killed most of the crew and forced the rest of you to sail me to Llaam.'

'I know.' Falasson had come to know Avoca a little better over the weeks they had spent at sea, and Avoca knew she scared him, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

The Jarathians were busy on deck, getting ready to reach the harbour. At first, they had been mocking of her, until she taught them all that she wasn't someone to mess with. Now they avoided her. She preferred that.

Avoca took one step onto solid land and felt like she was going to fall over. Falasson passed her carrying a barrel. 'Oh, I should have warned you about that!' He grinned at her. 'It might take you some time to find your land legs!'

'Oh, Lord and Lady I hate the sea!' Avoca groaned at the gods. Falasson laughed and walked off. Carrying her pack, she turned to look down the harbour. She set off without a single good bye.

It was late and she wanted a good night's sleep. But before that, she was craving fresh food. Avoca patted her belt, making sure she had her favourite dagger to hand. Her money purse was hidden under her leather vest. She walked a way down the harbour front, looking for a decent looking inn to spend the night.

A wooden sign caught her eye. It read 'The Ivory Keg', with a picture of a frothing ale mug illustrating it. Avoca entered the inn and decided it looked an alright place. Ahead of her was the bar, the dark wood making the place look cosy. The hearth to her right made it warmer and Avoca breathed in the scent of wood smoke. She welcomed it after the smell of brine and salty air. People were sat around the tables, drinking, laughing, and playing cards. They didn't seem too rowdy even though most of them appeared to be sailors. Compared to the other places she had passed, this seemed quite nice.

She walked to the bar, conscious of eyes on her. Most of the customers had looked up when the door opened, and they hadn't yet looked away. Avoca presumed they were surprised to see a woman, a girl coming in. There were other women there, but they were probably employed there she thought.

'I'd like a bed for the night,' she said to the innkeeper. He was quite short for a man but he was still taller than Avoca. His broad stomach and kindly red face made Avoca think he was probably well liked. He certainly seemed to be able to manage the inn well.

'That'll be ten silver pieces,' he said, looking at her curiously. 'Would ye care for any food?'

Avoca nodded curtly. 'What do you have?'

'Can ye read?'

She nodded again.

'Well then, this here be the menu,' he said, passing her a piece of parchment. After a brief glance over the words she said 'Beef and vegetable casserole.'

'Right that's fourteen silver pieces altogether. Ye sure ye don't want ground Minotaur casserole? Tis on a special offer tonight.'

Avoca shook her head. 'I'll have the Cataclysm Wine too.'

She handed over fourteen silver pieces and five copper pieces. Money wasn't a problem just yet but she certainly wasn't going to waste it on too much luxury. Just as she was leaving to sit in an empty table in the corner, the innkeeper called her again.

'Girl?' he said. 'Ye meeting someone or something? 'Cause it's not the wisest thing to be wondering Chetwick lonely like.' Avoca appraised his kindly concerned expression. 'I think I can handle things,' she said. With that she made her way past the hearth to the table.

She had just finished her meal and was sipping at the wine when a hulking figure stopped in front of her table.

'Can I help you?' she said, menace oozing from her tone. He looked confused, almost outraged. Probably drunk, Avoca figured.

'My Lady!' he said. 'What are you doing here?' He looked around quickly and sat down opposite Avoca. She raised an eyebrow. Avoca certainly did not appreciate his endearment for her.

'And who might you be?' she said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs.

'Don't play games with me! Your father will hear of this... Are you running away?'

'Are you drunk, or are you simply pretending I'm someone you know?'

'That's it Mirabelle, we are going to stand up and walk out of here, and you are going to follow me back to the castle. If you do that, I won't tell your father about this.'

Avoca stared at him, confused. She had presumed he was pretending she was this Mirabelle so he simply had an excuse to talk to her... but something about that didn't seem right. 'I think you're mistaken,' she said with a false smile. 'My name is not Mirabelle. It is Avoca. I do not know who you are and the only reason I am here is to search for my father, so I doubt you could tell him of my disobedience.' Bitter irony crept into her voice.

'Avoca?' the man whispered.

'Yes, heard of me?' she said, light-hearted, but a flash of concern crossed her face. The man pushed his chair back and fell to his knees in front of her. 'My Lady... you're family has been looking for you for years, since you disappeared, them many years ago!'

People were looking over at them to see what the commotion was about, but Avoca didn't really care.

'I would like to think so too,' she said, the false, cold smile back on her face.

'Where have you been?' his confusion was getting greater by the second. 'Have you come back to see your Lord father?

'My Lord father?' she said, amused.

'Yes! Do you... do you not know who your parents are? Who you are? Come!' he said, standing up and gesturing with his arm. 'My Lady, you must come to seek audience with them!'

Avoca narrowed her eyes, hoping that there was some truth to this story and fate had led her to be reunited with her family. But hope was not something that came to her easily. 'I would be a fool to believe you,' she said, remaining where she was, much to the man's agitation. He sat back down again and leant forwards, to captivate her attention. 'You wouldn't!' he exclaimed. 'For 'tis the truth! Listen, Lady Avoca, you were very young when you went missing, what was it three? You are the exact image of your sister, Mirabelle. Your mother birthed you on the same day, and you have always looked like mirror images of one another, that's why I didn't realise who you were to begin with! And your parents are Lord and Lady Chetwick!'

'If my Father is Lord Chetwick,' Avoca said slowly, 'doesn’t that make him the King's brother?'

'Yes your father is brother to the King of Jarathia, which makes your father's children, including you, heirs to the throne!' Did you really not know all this?'

Avoca sat there, deep in thought. How would he have known how she had a different life since the age of three if his story wasn't the truth? Yet what were the chances of her finding her family in the very first place she looked? Was that fate? The way her destination was changed, out there on the cruel seas, was that intervention of the Gods?

'I will go with you,' she said. 'I will see if there is any truth to this story.' Avoca stood and heaved her back pack onto her shoulders. 'And who are you then? Where do you fit into this story?'

He stood up comically quickly, staggering over his own feet. He went bright red before introducing himself. 'I, my Lady, am Gilbert, son of Godwin. The head steward of your father's household.'