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Maric

By: Fruanc J.H.

You know those people you meet in life, that stand out from all the rest. And it is only after you've parted company, that you realize who you were talking with. Well when I first met Maric, it was the same way. Only our paths didn't separate, but rather, became irrevocably intertwined. I would later realize that I was spending time with what should have been my mortal enemy; but this enemy had become a friend.

It was late summer the day our paths first crossed; Maric making his way "home." And I, waiting for the iron horse on wheals to arrive, and take me to the tavern were I'd gotten a summers job. I didn't want the job exactly, as the type of crowd that sort of place attracted was a bit too loud for my taste, and shady to boot. Still, Father always said that if I was to make it in the real world, I'd need to first experience the under world. Besides, I needed the spending money. if I was gonna get a plot of land to live off of with a family all my own one day.

I didn't like the idea, Mother hated the idea, and Granny... well she refused to give her opinion, which more often than not meant utter disgust at the very thought of a boy my age, 16 by the way, living in that kind of crowd. But, Father had gone through it, Grandpa, and Great Grandpa had gone through it, so it was merely my turn to carry on the tradition.

...Lucky me... Wahoo...

The iron horse arrived half past twelve. As usual it came screeching into the station with the squeal of metal sliding on metal; a terrible sound from any distance. The passengers departed from the dull, metallic, white wash painted carriages, while the wooden luggage carts were also unloaded. First class passengers were off first, to their waiting drivers. Then came second, then third, and so on according to seating class. I waited in the courtyard of the station, along with everyone who'd be boarding in just a moment. The town church which stood directly across from the station, had recently had a clock installed. Since it was the tallest building in the town, and ultimately the nicest looking, it had obvious choice for the new clock. The contraption was designed to ring on the hour every hour. It began doing just that about the time everyone who'd been getting off the train had done so. I'd just begun to grow accustomed to being able to hear its chimes every hour right in sink with the grandfather clock in the living room of my parents house.

When the last of the trolleys pushed away; our turn to board the iron horse came. As always, like some one had pressed a reverse button, the waiting passengers were loaded on, as well as their luggage. Businessmen, workers, and folks off to visit their relatives made up most of the crowd heading for the vacant carriages.

It was third class for me, seeing how it was cheapest. Although it was a longer walk to the rear coaches, the distance it put between the chimneystack and me was worth the walk, from the head of the iron horse to its tail. Also, the price of three coppers was far more affordable, 'and all I could afford,' than the twenty-five that first class passengers paid.

As I boarded something caught my eye.

Boarding the car behind mine, was a man wearing the most unusual attire. Although of fine quality, and make, his garments were all of leather, completely out of style. He wore a faded ashen colored shirt, sleeveless, with braded black leather lining the cut offs where sleeves were missing, as well as at the neck. More faded, ebony leather cording laced down the front of the shirt, about a third of the way ending, in an inch wide X shape. A black leather belt held up the similarly grey pants he wore, some four deep pockets on the legs of his pants, giving him an even more outlandish look. His footwear, a dusty black moccasin type of shoe, had some alterations resulting in what looked like a pair of boots. The initial height of which lay concealed, beneath the man's pant legs. The thing he wore over all that, an oddity in itself like a hooded shawl thing about two times to big and much longer, that covered the majority of him... a traveling cloak, perhaps? Hadn't Great Grandfather had one? Also present was a brown bag at his side, and a pack that hung on his back, fashioned from leather of course.

I was not the only one to notice him. Indeed, he attracted a great many stares, and many a man was quick to be out of his way, and far from him. Many, but not I. On the contrary, where half a cart was soon empty, I was striding down the aisle of that cart looking for the stranger. Something about him drew me; a quality in him that repulsed so many, drew me as a lodestone does little iron fillings. It was odd to be drawn to this stranger, as if I had been magnetized. Here in the land a Lawcarpaituh when some one has a magnetic effect on you, it is traditionally wise to avoid them like the plague. Nothing good will come of entertaining that kind of company, at least that's how the stories go.

Never, I will never understand what it was that pulled me towards him, call it fate. Still what's done is done. I was on the iron horse travel bag in hand walking back to were the man sat. There were plenty of other seats in the cart, in particular around, and near the stranger, but I wasn't interested in those. It was the one across from him that I was interested in. I sat myself down on the hard wooden seat, and acted as if nothing was any different. As though it were coincidence that I had sat across the aisle from him. I took from my pack, a book I had read, and reread several times. I pretended to read it a third time, while sneaking covert glances at the new company.

Some fifteen minutes later the iron horse was on the move. It started with the rumbling that spoke of the bowls of the horses engine being stoked, followed by the stench of the chimney stack, and then the vibration and pull of the engine beginning to tug the rest of the iron contraption forward. It started as a crawl, but soon grew to a swift gallop. The land began to slowly slide by, at a steadily increasing rate. It was not long before the station, town, and all signs of settlement lay abandoned in a fading trail of smoke from the chimneystack. Forests green accented by the occasional stream, or open field, was now all that there was to see, as the ride ticked by. I of course, was absorbed in pretending to read my book, while sneaking quick glances at the man from under my brow. I'm not sure why I made the choices that I did, but I made them.

The man was not only different in his style of dress, but also in behavior. A fact, which he only accentuated, by pulling his legs up, and sitting cross-legged on the wooden bench, looking completely comfortable in the position. His bag was not the least bit revealing as to what it contained, and the pants pockets were just as un-giving, as the bag had been. He seemed quite interested in what was out the window, so seeing his face was impossible, especially with the hood hiding most everything of his head to begin with. It must have been close on to seventy five degrees out today. Certainly not weather to be wearing a cloak. I continued to observe the man, but my looks granted little of interest. Yet I still felt there was something there that I was missing, as he gazed on the forest without. It was not long before I got reckless from boredom, and plain out stared at him. Once again, I was not the only one to do so, but it was me that he caught in the act.

Abruptly, as if from out of nowhere, there came a horrendous crack, like stone being split. He turned and looked straight at me. Panic stricken, I scrambled to bring my book back up, but I was too late to hide my open staring. Clumsy as I was, I wound up dropping the book in the process. It was painfully obvious that I had been starring, as I reached for my book. And for the longest time, he studied me from within his hood.

You know those hot cold sweats you get when you know you're caught, and being looked at? Well that's how I felt. But it was not me he was studying. No he may have seen me looking at him, but it was an object in his bag that he was examining. And although the urge to look at what that bag of his contained was great, I didn't dare glance up from the page of my book, still hot with the dread of being caught.

Another stone splitting sound wracked the carts passenger's ears, and at this point the stranger had hoisted whatever it was that was making the noise from his bag. Closed it, and now standing up he turned to me, thrust the bag at me, and quickly said. "CARRY THIS FOR ME PLEASE." Feeling like I'd just been hit over the head, I dumbly took the leather bag. Next thing I new, he was up, and headed for the doors between the cars!

His strides were monstrously huge, more like bounds than power walking. As his strides ate up the distance to where he was headed, I had to run just to keep up. When we reached the door, he did not even hesitate in wrenching it open, and jumping between the carts! Following suit, I continued running and leapt the distance.

That is to say I tried, but the combined weight of my belongings, and his would have actually seen me falling on the metal between the carts, had the man not caught me, and thrust me down by his side. Out of breath all ready, I made to thank him, but he was already striding onward.

Through the next two carts, He and I scurried, met with dismay, and protests as the splitting sound reoccurred more, and more frequently, giving people a fright. Our sudden entries got us plenty of angry words, like vandals, robbers, and my personal favorite bloody hicks!!! After upsetting a good many cranky old folks in the last cart, who complained about people disturbing the peace, we finally reached the coal car. Once again he made the jump. Before hoisting me across the gap, as he'd done on the past three carts, much to my embarrassment.

"how are we going too..." I began to ask. He kept his hold on me, and then hefted me on top of the cart itself. I scrambled up, met with an instant blast of wind. I nearly slid off the left side, had I not grabbed a hold of the ridge on the center of the car I would have. The man soon followed, swinging himself up and crouching low to follow me. Crawling across the cars top, I lost my grip a few times when the train car gave a sudden bounce. I was grateful for the firm hand that kept me steady so I could regain my grip. Another set of snaps from behind however, made the man shove me forward to hasten me. Ending the moment of gratitude I'd felt toward him.

What the two men in charge of engine car thought of two people climbing across the top of their coal car, I do not know, but I highly doubt that it was anything good that they thought. As the words they shouted over the wind blast were not those of a gentleman, or anything that I dare repeat. Nevertheless, they made it clear that they were not happy to see us. Let's leave it at that.

Hopping down from the roof the stranger made for the furnace, as I tumbled after landing less gracefully than I'd have liked to... On my rear.

Of course, the two men barred our way. Like most honor bound men would have, and that is when steal appeared between us. I had not seen it before the duel blades that so easily caused the two men to leap out of the stranger's path. How could I have missed it before? Two swords, of that length surely; it could not have gone unnoticed? Apparently it could have, for no sooner had they been there then they were gone, in a swift, fluid motion.

The two workers who had barred our way, made themselves as scares as they could, in an awful hurry. That's where they stayed too, backed to one side of the engine car. The furnace was wide open, since the two men had been shoveling more coal into it before we arrived. The heat it gave off was sweltering. As if not noticing the heat the stranger walked forward. It was then that I saw what had been making the stone splitting noise. In his hand, the stranger held a goose egg sized rock. It was black and extremely porous, like a piece of pumice that had been fished out of a fire pit. Scores of cracks now laced their way across its surface, cracks that glowed molten red orange. Drawing tongs from his upper left pant pocket and gently grasping the stone with them, he lowered the rock into the fierce fires.

Backing away so he could keep everything in the iron horses engine in sight the man took on a relaxed stance and waited in utter silence.

An hour passed, with the stone slowly gaining more crevices. The shattering pops and snaps it made becoming increasingly rapid in their repetition. At last, the event the stranger was awaiting transpired. A reverberating snap rocked the ovular piece of pumice, the crags widened, the stone changed in shape, appearing to collapse, and then a piece of the stone abruptly flew away from the reforming mass. Bouncing and chinking off the sides of the engine before finally coming to rest some place on the tracks. At this point, the stranger strode forward, closing the door to the furnace, as another piece of rock ricocheted off the walls. Taking a few steps back, he resumed his relaxed stance. Ten seconds passed, stone fragments beginning to fly from the stone in droves. And although we could not see it happening, the clanking sound from within the furnace was proof enough.

The two workmen looked on in what appeared to be a worried, and even fearful manner now. One of them forgetting that they were pretty much being held up, was so bold to take a step toward the furnace and shout. "What are you doing!"

A flash of steal, tore the bandana that hung beneath the fellows neck from it's lofty purchase. All watched as the mottled green fabric drifted to land on the floor.

"Final warning." said the stranger in a dead voice. The men needed no further words. He stepped back silent, his brief moment of courage now deserting him. Meanwhile, his hand reached up to feel his neck, in that realization of how close one has stepped within the reaches of death.

Beginning to come back to myself, it felt like I'd been plunged into a bath of ice water. For the past hour, I had been in a numb stupor. Just following the stranger, as if I were under some kind of Mesmer. Only now was I becoming aware of myself again. There I stood, taking part in a hold up of sorts, the reason for which I did not even know. I had to admit I couldn't move, accept for the involuntary shaking that was sapping all ability to move from my body.

That I would be held responsible for this, just as much as this man would, was undeniable. I didn't cry, not visibly, but inside it was like a strong wind had seized hold over my emotions.

The clanking finally died down, stopped, and was followed by an unnatural silence. I started to tremble with a new intensity, feeling cold as well as drained. Slowly the stranger opened the furnace door. Out came a wave of heat, causing my skin to prickle with the cold of dread, that was in my heart. I didn't want to look, but like with the stranger I felt drawn forward. Forced to look, I instantly had to turn away, it was so hot the fires. It was the same! The flames still licked upward, the coals still glowed, but something was different. In the midst of all that heat was a, a, a something. It had a long sinewy body, and was no bigger than the palm of my hand. Carefully the stranger reached in with the tongs, and slowly drew out the little thing. It had four legs, and its tail made up about a third of its entire body. Its head was flat with ridges on top of its blue green eyes. The rest of him was molten orange to red. The creature seemingly glowed from within.

As the stranger turned from the open furnace it was then that I saw his face. Pale skin, blue eyes, crowned with thick black brows, he had high cheekbones, and a firm set jaw, and chin. Like the lizard he'd just hatched, his eyes seemed to glow with an inner light, that was both piercing, and knowing. His dark thick brows gave him an angry scowling look, wreathed in his thick dark curtains of black hair.

For an instant his eyes locked with mine, I was quick to look away I could not hold that stare. Yet again, he reached into one of his pockets this time drawing out a small iron contraption. It was made of three parts, and held together by three vertical polls, each connected to the upper and lower parts while suspending the middle piece between them. It looked to be a lantern of sorts. Careful not to scrape the lizards molten hide, the man eased the little lizard down into the cast iron lantern. Taking one of the red hot coals from the fire he added it to the lantern as well, and then closed the hole filled lid. An angry chirp of protest erupted from within but after a few sparks the lizard remained silent.

For the remainder of ride he, the two workers, the newly hatched fire lizard, and myself remained silent. The stranger permitted the two men to go about maintaining the engine, but he never once took his hand from within his cloak and I think we all knew why. As the iron horse began to pull into our point of arrival, the stranger handed the cast iron lantern to me. Locking eyes with me, and holding my gaze, he said in a voice rolling with the menace of thunder "TAKE CARE OF HIM UNTIL WE REACH THE INN." He released my gaze. Once again the sense of having been pummeled over the head ensued, and I took the black lantern without question. I felt that cold sweat that accompanies being stared down, both dangerously, and seriously. I was not about to loose this lantern. I knew that if I did, I would find myself sliding off the end of this mans sword before I could take in breath.

Looking hopeful, the two workers began to make ready for slowing the train. Pulling the breaks and cutting the furnace heat. Gradually slowly, we came to a stop, with the squeal of metal wheels on metal tracks. It was deafening, how could the men who worked the engine stand it? I couldn't, the lizard in the lantern certainly wouldn't, as a lot of sparks were erupting from the holes. The little guy might as well have been spewing fire at the rate the sparks were emerging. Finally, mercifully the screeching stopped. Only to be replaced by the lizards angry chirps. I still had one of my ears covered while I held the lantern at arms length. The stranger gave a slight smile, and beckoned me to his side. We approached the two men, who backed up in apprehension. Can you blame them? An hour ago, I would have done the same thing on being approached by such an odd pair.

Stepping forward, the stranger reached out to the man he had loosed the scarf of. Both men shied away, but the one he was reaching for stopped. Caught as I had been in that stupor. The stranger was tying the mans scarf back around his neck only it wasn't torn! Scarf in place, the stranger gave the man a pat on the shoulder.

"You show uncommon courage." wanly he smiled, "I admire that in a man." Reaching into another of his pockets, the stranger drew out two gold ingots, passing one to each worker. Instantly they took them. After all how often was it that you were paid a month's wages for being held up? And on top of that, the money being from the man who did the hold up. When the money had changed hands, the stranger said. "For your silence. Me and my friend were never here, are we understood?" Both men nodded without another word. Turning he beckoned me to follow and jumped from the head of the iron horse. By this time, the iron horse had halted so I followed down the side of the engine car, and made my way to where my new companion stood, waiting for me. Once I was at his side, he started us through the milling crowd.

"Got a name lad." He asked me.

"John." I replied shakily. "John kinsmen." The man nodded.

"Well Mr. Kinsmen, it won't be too much trouble for you to abandon your plans for the next month, will it." He said this as if it were a matter of fact not a question. I knew it wasn't.

"N-no." I replied even more shakily. "No tr-trouble at all." He smiled at me, a wolfish smile, and for a moment, I would have sworn his eyes were yellow. The look softened some, as he reach a hand up and tussled my hair.

"Good lad." He bellowed slapping me on the back. "Perhaps you'll learn a thing or two." Turning on his heal, not the least bit concerned that I might run we were off. What had I gotten myself into?