The Affinity V (standard:adventure, 3051 words)
Author: Ian Hobson	Added: Dec 18 2008	Views/Reads: 3528/1942	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
If you missed the earlier episodes of The Affinity, the story starts here: http://www.nicestories.com/unreg/s/story.php?id=8387 Recap: After being attacked by pirates, and then by a Kraken, Lord Astavar, Layana and Miglio have fled the sinking ship.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


'Come aboard!'  Captain Doran had one of his men lower a rope ladder,
and the merchant, red-faced from the climb, was soon on deck. 

'A fine ship you have here, Captain.'  The merchant, whose name was
Bolligari, looked the ship up and down before eyeing the mixed crew 
suspiciously, as several were battle-scarred and wearing bloodstained 
bandages.  But he relaxed as one of the Kerree's old hands, a Romadan, 
stepped forward and vouched for him.  Three other crewmen were 
Litanlian born, and each of them was eager to ask questions about the 
invasion, but Captain Doran took the man below.  I considered joining 
them but decided that I could learn just as much in the town. 

And so, as I had already said my goodbyes to Doran who, in truth, was
probably glad to see the back of us, I persuaded the young oarsman to 
take us ashore while his master was occupied aboard.  Though, before 
long, there were a number of other small boats surrounding the Maffrai, 
all with occupants seeking passage. 

'Perhaps you should stay with the Maffrai,' I suggested to Layana, as
Miglio clambered down the rope-ladder below us.  'There may be 
dangerous times ahead.' 

She shot me an angry glance, but then burst into laughter.  'Dangerous
times?  Are Oruka-men, pirates and sea monsters not dangerous?  My 
lord, you bought me my freedom, which means that I am free to follow 
you.'  She kissed me then and, after throwing her bundled belongings to 
her brother and lifting the skirts of her dress, she scrambled nimbly 
over the ship's side and down the rope-ladder. 

*** 

Romada was crowded with refugees, while the regular inhabitants of the
town were suspicious of strangers and therefore not quite the friendly 
and hospitable people that I remembered.  Though every tavern and house 
with rooms to let was full, and I feared that we would spend our first 
night out of doors.  There was also a shortage of food, and we paid an 
exorbitant price for a meal of fish and stale bread.  The tavern owner, 
where we ate, bore little resemblance to Kello, the man I had hoped to 
find there and, after questioning him, I learned that the establishment 
had changed hands five years before after Kello's wife had died and he 
had lost everything in a single game of baracada. 

'Does Kello still live?' I asked in Litanlian. 

The new owner shrugged.  'He is old, but last I heard, he was working as
a stable hand at the garrison.'  He pointed towards the fortress on the 
hill behind the town, before turning away to serve other customers.  I 
remembered the fortress being built, two hundred years earlier, as a 
defence against a potential aggressor; though, to my knowledge, it had 
never had to withstand an attack. 

'Kello is a friend?'  Layana asked.  She and Miglio spoke only Elgyptan
and the language of their home country, Islaar; but the latter was 
similar in many ways to Litanlian, so they had understood the gist of 
our conversation. 

'Yes,' I answered, ‘though he may not recognise me now.  It must be over
thirty years since I last sat here in this tavern and shared a meal 
with him.' 

Miglio looked a little puzzled by that remark.  I had not got around to
telling him my true age yet.  'Why do you seek him, master?' he asked. 

'He was a good soldier, and we fought a couple of campaigns together,' I
said, remembering my old friend.   'Yes, Litanlia has seen many 
invasions; from the sea as well as from the land.  But always the 
Litanlians have repelled the intruders.  They are a proud people and 
know how to defend themselves.' 

'Yet so many of them are fleeing the country now.'  Layana interrupted. 
'Why do they not stand and fight?' 

'Some of these people are not truly Litanlians.  Some are migrant
workers and some are refugees from other wars.  Others have grown too 
rich to risk loosing what they have and choose to flee with their 
pockets filled with gold.  But how many young men do you see?'  I 
gestured towards the crowds lining the wharves.  'Hardly any, because 
those with any fight in them will be marching north to meet the enemy.' 


'And are we to join them, master?' Miglio asked, with that glint in his
eye that reminded me so much of Magaglo. 

I ran my fingers through my beard as I pondered his question, as though
I had a choice.  But, of course, I had none; the gods had decreed that 
I must defend against any aggressor, and I could do no other. 

11 - Kello 

By late afternoon, the clouds had melted away under the heat of the sun,
though it soon began to sink towards the hills to the south-west as we 
climbed the steep track that lead to the garrison, each of us carrying 
our spare clothes and other meagre possessions. 

'What if we are turned away?' Layana asked as she shifted the bundle she
carried from one shoulder to the other. 

'Then we shall sleep beneath the stars,' I replied.  The earth beside
the track showed little sign of the morning's rain, and the air smelt 
fresh and clean away from the crowded streets of the town, so the 
thought of a night out of doors was quite appealing. 

As we neared the fortress, a sentry sitting on a stool bedside the main
gate, sprang to his feet and reached for a spear that was propped 
against the wall.  He looked too old to be a soldier, but he was a big, 
broad-shouldered man, and he held the spear as if he knew how to use 
it.  'What is your business here?' he asked in Litanlian.  His voice 
was gruff and somewhat slurred, as though he had been drinking. 

I set down my bundle and took a few steps closer.  Miglio and I no
longer wore our soldiers' tunics, as the mail had rusted solid, but we 
still wore our swords over our regular, travel-stained, garments, which 
was probably the reason for the guard's suspicion.  'Is that the way 
you treat an old friend?' I asked. 

The old man's spear point was immediately thrust forward.  'You're no
friend of mine.'  The daylight was beginning to fade, but there was 
enough for him to make out my features because his expression slowly 
changed from aggression to incredulity.  'Astavar?' 

As the spear was lowered and then dropped to the ground, I stepped
forward and, grinning like fools, we embraced each other.  Kello may 
have been an old man, but he hugged me with the strength of a bear, 
before holding me at arms length and studying my face.  'It is really 
you?' 

'It is,' I said. 

'Then you did not lie; the stories you used to tell me of being reborn
and living your life over again were true?' 

'It looks that way,' I said, remembering the times that we had got drunk
together, and regretting that my tongue had become so loose.  'But what 
of you?' I asked.  'I expected to find you owning every tavern in town 
by now, not playing at soldiers.' 

'Ah!' he exclaimed.  'Taverns!  May the gods rot them!  Just a lot of
dammed hard work, fetching and carrying for a lot of ill-mannered 
imbeciles.' 

'I hear you were married.' 

'I was.'  His expression changed momentarily, as though a dark cloud had
passed quickly overhead.  'She was the best woman in the whole world.  
Better that most men,' he said with a grin.  'Never lost an 
arm-wrestling contest. Twenty years we were together.'  He looked past 
me towards Miglio and Layana.  'These two with you?' 

I introduced, first Layana, and then Miglio, who was immediately handed
the spear.  'You are on guard until I send someone to relieve you,' 
said Kello, giving me a wink.  'Let no one pass.'  The he snatched up 
all our bundles and led the way into the castle. 

*** 

There were only eleven men left at the garrison, all but one of them
old, like Kello.  The young one, a Lieutenant called Aesteban, was 
nursing a broken collarbone, having fallen from his horse as he and his 
company were about to set off to join King Rubris and their countrymen 
fighting in the north.  He had been left in command and had promoted my 
old friend Kello from stable-hand to private soldier.  And though at 
first Miglo and I were treated with suspicion, he soon warmed to us, 
and we sat until the small hours, drinking wine as Kello and I talked 
of old battles. 

Lieutenant Aesteban occasionally looked puzzled by our conversation and
by my knowledge of his county's history, but he did not question my 
willingness to fight.  'I will be fit to ride in a few days time,' he 
said, massaging his shoulder, 'and I will be glad to have you along.'  
He told us he planned to leave just three men behind at the garrison, 
and then offended Kello by revealing that he would be one of them. 

'I can fight as well as any man,' he claimed, getting to his feet and
swaying back and forth with an empty wine bottle in his hand, 'and ride 
as well as any! And I will be proud to have a young Lord Astavar at my 
side once more.'  He put a brotherly arm around my shoulders, then slid 
back into a sitting position and promptly fell asleep. 

We sat for a while longer, listening to Kello's snores, before retiring
ourselves.  Lieutenant Aesteban had given us two rooms in the officers' 
quarters, and I remember little after kicking off my sandals and 
falling into bed. 

12 – A Reluctant Return 

I felt that I was floating; not in water, but in air.  And though the
sensation was not unpleasant and I knew that I had experienced, and 
survived, this before, I tried to fight it.  I did not want to be torn 
away from my life as Lord Astavar just then.  I had a woman who loved 
me, a faithful servant, and there was much to do: preparations to be 
made, roads to travel, battles to be won. 

As I woke I could feel a dull pain in my neck and back.  Realising that
I was no longer floating but lying on a hard surface, my first thought 
was that I had been dreaming.  I opened my eyes, trying to make sense 
of what I could see and feel: I was on the floor of a small room that 
seemed to smell of old books, and beside me lay my sword.  I sat up 
with a start as I realised where I was; and who I was. 

I was Michael Collington again. 

Was this how it normally happened?  Somehow it felt right: Lord Astavar,
my other self, had fallen asleep, and I, the real me, was back in 
England, back in my study.  Shakily, I got to my feet and went to the 
window.  There was still daylight but the autumn colours were dulled by 
an overcast sky.  So, once again, back in my real world, very little 
time had passed.  I stood there, gazing out of the window, my head 
filled with images of Layana and Miglio, of our sea voyage and fight 
with the kraken, and of Romada with its streets filled with refuges.  
Why is it, I wondered, that as Lord Astavar I quickly become immersed 
in that role, forgetting completely this, my real life, while here, 
back in my study, I recall everything?  My life had certainly changed. 

Jennifer's car pulled into the driveway, breaking my reverie. 
Carefully, I put my sword back into its secret drawer and went to greet 
my wife and daughter.  I felt a strange elation; the shock of returning 
was much diminished in comparison to the first time.  It was as though 
I had just read several chapters of a fantastically good book and set 
it aside to continue later.  The only question was, when? 

*** 

The next day, Sunday, was our wedding anniversary.  Of course, with all
that had happened since finding my grandfather's letter and the sword, 
I had completely forgotten about it, which did not go down well with 
Jennifer.  To make amends, I drove down to the local petrol station and 
returned with the biggest bunch of flowers they had, and then booked a 
table for lunch at the Black Horse.  The earliest I could get was 2.15 
so it was late in the day when the three of us returned home to find 
Jennifer's parents on the doorstep, so I had no opportunity to return 
the study. 

At work the week seemed to drag on for ever, and then an unexpected
invitation to spend the weekend at my sister's new house in Coventry 
used up another weekend.  And so a total fifteen days passed before I 
found myself alone in the house and able to remove the sword from its 
hiding place. 

Remembering Magalo's words, I stood, back to the wall, and kissed the
blade.  And, once more, I was transported to my other life. 

*** 

I woke in almost complete darkness, feeling a little cold and stiff, and
expecting to find Layana beside me.  I was lying on a bed, the one in 
the room in the officers' quarters, as far as I could make out.  But 
there were others in the room, I could hear their rhythmic breathing 
and at least three people were snoring.  Groggily, I pushed myself up 
onto my elbows. 

'Master?'  Miglio's whispered voice was close by, and I could just make
out his shape as he rose from the floor where he had been lying.  He 
came closer and then knelt and held something out towards me.  'Your 
sword, master.' 

I took it from him.  'Who else is here?' I whispered as I slipped my
sword from its sheath. 

'Soldiers, and men from the town.' 

'The town?'  I was confused.  Across the room, someone coughed and then
another stirred in his sleep.  I pushed away the rough blanket that 
covered me, got to my feet, touched the sword's blade to my lips and, 
as always, I felt infused by its power.  A tiny shaft of moonlight was 
seeping through the shuttered window, and I made my way to it, almost 
stumbling over another prone body.  I opened one of the shutters and 
looked out.  I could see armed men on the castle walls and, below in 
the courtyard there were more men, sitting or standing around fires, 
while others were sleeping wherever they had been able to find a 
suitable place to lie down. 

'We are under siege, master,' whispered Miglio.  'You have been asleep
for twenty days.' 

TO BE CONTINUED


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