Previously: Esmiralda and her companions have discovered that the shattered ship—found upside-down and in the middle of a forest—was once captained by Harfirgorn the Merciless, a pirate of some repute that had vanished long ago. Following clues in a log book they find in the pirate’s quarters, they hope to discover his final resting place. On the way, they meet up with a lady of the wood, whose husband has succumbed to the vile magic of the pirate's witch. Together, they search for the source of her vile magic. After a brief, violent encounter, they set out again
"Trail of the dead," I repeated.
The villager nodded and pointed toward the looming mountain range. "It's hard to miss."
"I imagine it would be," I muttered. I looked at my companions. They were all grim-faced, ready to take up--and perhaps complete--our quest.
"It is probably not as bad as it sounds," Seymuhr might had comforted me if his voice was not so raspy.
"Oh, you have experience with them?"
"Aye," he said and broke into a chuckle, "although not in following them. I usually leave trails of dead behind me, I do."
Of course. I shook my head. I had probably walked into that one.
"Well, let's be off, then," Merrick said. "We still have plenty of light left in this day, and this trail should be easy enough to follow."
I nodded. I would have liked to stay the night in the small village, to feel the comfort of walls and the heat of a fire for a night, at least, but Broo Fang Tane's recent actions would have made such a request awkward, if not outright offensive. I looked for the little monk and saw him helping Lobern out of the tavern. the wounded villager was unsteady on his feet, and Tane had him under one arm. A plump woman supported his other side. She wore a forced smile, but tears glistened on her cheeks.
"Do you think it will heal?" Lobern poked gently at the skin under his now-empty eye socket.
"Probab...ly....not," Tane said in his usual lilting way. "I aaaaa.......am sorry."
"His eyes were what drew me to him," the plump woman confided to me. "They were so dark, like a cave, yet filled with kindness. I still have one to gaze into, do I not?" Tears leaked anew.
"You do indeed," I answered with what I hoped was a sympathetic expression. I tried to come up with some additional words of comfort, but failed. "And it's a nice one, indeed." I turned away, coloring at my clumsy effort to soothe the woman.
Preparations were swift. Before another hour had passed, we were well stocked with provisions: skins filled with water and wine, sturdy packs filled with smoked spider meat--given despite my objections.
"I noticed some cattle nearby," I asked. "Might you have any smoked beef, instead?"
"Whatever for?" The tavernkeeper answered.
"I've just grown a bit weary of spider meat, is all. Surely, you could spare some of your bovine bounty?"
"What?"
"Your cows. Salted beef or smoked beef? We are, after all, putting our lives in danger to save your village..."
The tavern keeper grunted and nodded to Lobern, half-blind and still unsteady on his feet. Tane's other attacker still lay inside, barely breathing. "We've paid that toll already, methinks."
I started to point out that his companions had started that bizarre fight, but thought better of it. I was probably only wasting time. Seymuhr hiked the limb-filled pack further up on his back--he was already gnawing on a crispy, hairy leg--and said very well in a small voice.
The innkeeper clapped his hands. "Excellent. Spider is better for you, anyway. Very rich. It'll put meat on your bones no matter what--not that you need any help in that area, mi'lady."
"Of course." I pressed my lips together and ignored Seymuhr's chuckle.
Merrick clapped me on the back and headed off into the woods where we would find the trail of death, follow it to the mountain and meet the ageless witch Abilene at long last.
