Otherworld: A Son of Two Realms

Chapter 67: "Just As You Promised"

       

"You'll smell Bashir before you see it." Saunder finished tying his horse to the hay cart he was lending to them. Or rather, giving to them. No one expected their journey to be a round-trip. "Just don't attract attention. Most folks in that city aren't looking for any."

Mercer climbed onto the front of the cart. "Thank you for the horse. I know it's a sacrifice."

Saunder huffed. "It's not a gift."

"You'll be compensated, I swear. With interest."

"A new horse will suffice."

Jack waited by the cabin door. When Alba finally emerged, the blood had been scrubbed from her face and hands and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun. Saunder's spare clothes hung on her tiny frame but at least they were clean.

"You two will be in back," Mercer said. "The city gates are pretty quiet around noon so we should be able to slip through, if we leave now."

Alba tossed her sword into the back of the cart and jumped in.

"I guess that's everything," Jack said, holding out his hand.

Saunder took his hand but pulled him into a bear hug. Beneath the sweet stench of sheep, Jack could still smell fish. "I never regretted pulling you out of the sea, Jack Ward. Not ever."

"I'm glad you did." Saunder ended the hug with a pat on the back that took the air out of Jack's lungs.

"Find your friend and get home," he said. "Talon's a good man but prophecies are rubbish."

Suppressing a laugh and hoping Mercer hadn't heard, Jack tossed Brigand's Bane into the cart and hopped on.

Jack smelled Bashir before he saw it.

As Mercer steered the cart up the road, the wind began to pick up, carrying a harsh chill from the north. At first, Jack wondered if a skunk had been killed nearby, and then he wondered if skunks even existed in Guildron. Soon the stench harshened to something he had only ever smelled in gas station bathrooms.

The cart crested a hill and suddenly Bashir was before them, a city of drab buildings surrounded by a crumbling wall. Jack sniffed the air and coughed as the scent caught in his throat.

"There are a lot of practical issues with inviting a population of thugs," Mercer said. "Not the least of which being municipal services, particularly sewage treatment."

"I'm more worried about their law enforcement," Alba said, her keen eyes scanning the city gate. A few travelers milled about the entrance but the whole scene was relatively quiet.

"As long as your not killing anyone or setting anything on fire, the city watch will keeps you alone," Mercer said. "But it's not the watch you should worry about. You two walking bounties need to get out of sight. I'll let you know when it's safe."

Alba and Jack laid down flat and covered themselves in hay. Just to be careful, Mercer also tossed a wool blanket over them.

"This is worse disguise I've ever used," Alba said, lowering her voice. "He's going to get us caught."

"I trust him," Jack said.

"I trust him enough. Though I'm dying to know how he got those scars. I'm sure there's an interesting story behind them."

"I'm sure."

They rode on in silence for a few minutes before Alba unexpected said, "Thank you."

Jack turned back to her and almost asked what for.

"I never said thank you," Alba continued. "For helping me at the Crimson Trout. I honestly didn't think you had it in you."

"I was just glad I could be useful this time."

"When we were fighting them, I glanced over at you and, for just a brief instant, I thought you were Archer."

It was the first time she had said his name out loud.

"He always had faith in you," Alba said. "He never lacked faith. That was what I loved most about him."

Alba stared off into the distance, lost in her memories.

"You should tell him that," Jack said, hoping to comfort her, even though he knew it was a false comfort. "He could still be alive."

"No, I know beyond all doubt my brother is dead. If he had one breath left in him, Archer would have come back for me."

"Quiet," Mercer whispered. "We're almost to the gate."

Jack pushed his body further into the bed of hay and tried to quiet his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alba lie motionless, her eyes still distant. Reaching through the straw, he found her hand and squeezed it. After a moment, she squeezed back.

Voices grew as the cart passed through the gate. No one said a word to Mercer as he led the horses inside Bashir and through its streets. Despite being high noon, few people could be heard on the streets. The voices they did pass were grumbled and harsh. As the horse clopped on, Jack began to realize the sounds that he was not hearing: the playful shouts of children, women chatting through their chores, and the barks of merchants hocking wares. It was as if the entire city was still asleep.

The cart finally stopped and Jack heard a voice call to Mercer. Mercer said something that Jack couldn't understand.

"Raise the gate!" the first voice called out in a militaristic timbre.

"Who was that?" Alba whispered, her body tensing. "Something's wrong."

Jack's fingers tightened around Brigand's Bane

He heard chains clank and a gate raise before the horse pressed on. A minute later, the horse stopped and Jack felt the cart rock as Mercer hopped off. The wool blanket was torn away and the sudden sunlight blinded them.

"We've arrived," Mercer said.

Jack sat up, rubbed his eyes, and froze.

They were in the middle of the Bashir garrison, surrounded on all sides by high walls and uniformed soldiers with swords drawn and bows notched.

"Well done, Mercer," an officer said. "Just as you promised."

Alba slowly rose, eyes darting around, trying desperately to formulate a plan. But they were trapped and preposterously outnumbered. In the face of certain doom, Jack and Alba could only turn their gazes on Mercer, who simply shrugged. "I'm sorry, my friends. You won't be seeing Talon today. You have an appointment with the Mayor."