The Fishermans Trip

As Beric and Darien live their life on the Isle they find something that will change the future.

 A shining light gazed in. Beric sheltered his eyes and turned to other side of his uncomfortable wooden bed, but the dawning light filled his room and forced his eyes to open. Beric turned back to face the window. The sun was always a great sight in the Isles. For the Easterners it is believed that the God of Fire has awoken. The rising fire is believed to give strength, wisdom, and power. The God of Water which seen at the sleep gives the people courage, hope, and life. Beric stood from his bed and grabbed his grey cloak and leather tunic and headed to the kitchen for breakfast. Already at the table were his little sister Elisha and a plate of bread and bacon. At the cooking pot was his mother lsha, who was checking on the eggs. A smile grew on Beric’s face to see his family happy. Beric walked towards the breakfast table. “Well good morning to you all, I’m not sure how the Sun gives me the strength to wake from that oh so comfortable bed.” A giggle sprouted from Elisha. Then their mother turned towards Beric, but still with a smile. “Beric. Sweet boy. You know we don’t have much coin. Working in the castle kitchens only gives me a handful of coppers, and you and your fishing does the same. We were lucky to even get this house.” She turned back to her pot and began to stir. “Beric, can I come with you to the sea?” Beric chuckled and looked up from his plate at little Elisha. “Well we could use those strong warrior arms of yours, but I’m afraid the sea is not safe for you. You’re only eleven, perhaps when the war is over we can adventure to the Icy Shore and climb the Frozen Mountains, or cross the Western Sea and go deep into the Tomb of the first King.” Her giggling child smile came down from her face. “I don’t want to go west. That’s where they took father.” Isha stopped stirring and turned to shelter Elisha. “Your father gave his life for the king, I know you don’t remember your father Eli. You were only a babe. Before he left he held you in his arms and sang your favourite song.

            The blue of the sea,

          The red of the sun,

        My Elisha, is the prettiest one.

 

      Smarter than a scholar,

    Break the good from the mean,

My Elisha, is the prettiest queen.

 

  My Elisha the only, the beauty

You have the heart of a lion,

The strength of a dragon,

My Elisha you’re the one”.

     

She took a breath, to take in her loss. “He held you for so long that only until he was dragged to the warship that you were split from his arms. He was a good man and a great father.” A tear of loss came down her cheek. She wiped it away with the stitched cloth on her leather and returned to the cooking pot. ”Beric. When do you leave for sea?” Her voice changed from loss to question. “After dinner. Darien said he found a great spot to the edge of Mortans Sea. He said it’s best to leave at night so no one can se-“ Isha cut him off in quick notion.

“Beric. In case you haven’t noticed there is a war going on. We’re not sure what their up to. These days the rebels could be doing anything…” She sighed and continued to stir. Beric grew annoyed at that comment, he knew he was doing the right thing. “Mother. We need the coins. Darien says that this will get us a belly full of silvers. I’m not doing it for the wealth. I’m doing it for our family. I promised father.” Beric stood from his seat, he didn’t have time to argue with his mother, it happened too often. He hooded his head, and he headed for the front door until he felt a hard tap at his shoulder. He turned and his mother was holding a wooden spoon. “May the Water give you courage on your trip.” She gave him a mother like kiss on the cheek, he smiled and headed out. In the open land of the Isle you could see all. The Isle is protected by twenty feet stone walls. On the high hill of the Isle was Mortans keep. The seat of the Isle Lord. Beric walked out of Stony Still to leave the small village. He headed towards the shore of the Isle towards the dock to find Darien. On his way he saw the folk of this land. Familiar faces nodding by. Farmers, Kinsmen and traders bearing goods from the Eastern Kingdom. He came to the docks and saw Darien talking to a Kinsman. Darien was an average height for his age, he turned twenty five, two months back. He was bald with eyes black as onyx, he had a black moustache and a goatee. He worn a old leather tunic which was backed by a green cloak. They both chuckled and walked out of the dock towards the open street, but Darien interrupted his conversation with the Kinsman where he saw Beric, they smiled at each other, Darien came towards him and his gracious booming laugh started. “You gearing up for the trip of ya f*****g life Beric!”

“You know fishing is my only passion!”

“Only Beric would pass a woman over for a fish!” The men chuckled along, and took themselves to an inn. It was always tradition for a belly full of mead before a trip into the sea. Inside the inn they sat near the fire which warmed the people inside. Darien called for some mead, while Beric drummed his fingers on the table. He took a look around the inn to see if any familiar faces appeared. Torren, the blacksmith. Hashan, the shipwright. There was a group of kinsmen in the back, they drank, and laughed. While the two fisherman waited for their mead Darien pulled out scroll. He unrolled the scroll on the table, it was a map of the known world. You could see ‘Mortan’s Isle, the Eastern Kingdom, the Western Plains, and the Icy Shore. Darien pointed out a location between Mortans Isle and the Western Shores. It was Mortans Sea. “I only mentioned this place a few days ago. Heard a couple of sailors chatting about how they’ve never seen some many bites before. Now, they could be chatting a bunch of s**t, but hey. Might as well try”

“And what about the rebels Darien? They are getting closer each day. Just last week, traders from the Isle butchered. Apparently their heads were put on the steps of Isle Lord’s throne”. The conversation was interrupted by their drinks.

  The mead finally came over, delivered by the barmaid. A woman in her twenty’s, she wore an old pale blue dress with a used apron. She had long brown curls for hair and lips like cherries. Her name was Tysha, or as Darien would call her ‘Tysha Big Tits’, Darien had gone around with the barmaid a few times. She placed Beric’s mead on the wooden table and then threw what was in Darien’s at Darien’s face. “Scum. I’ve got feelings, I’m not some toy you can use when you’re bored!”

  He grabbed some cloth on the table and wiped his soaked face. “Oh Tysha. you’re a toy to every man on the Isle”. This time she gave him a slap across the face. She stormed to the back of the inn in outrage. “Darien, your talents with women are remarkable” He said mockingly. “Oh, piss off” He said in a joking manner. Darien took a swig of his mead and returned back to the matter at hand.  “Look Beric, we are the ones supporting our families, after our fathers went to war, we were the ones to take care of families. It’s risky, but the reward is worth it. Trust me on this.” Beric took another look at the map, he knew the risk was high, but as Darien reminded him, so was the reward. He took a gulp of his mead and took a deep breath through his nose. “Count me in”. As they put their jugs of mead together, One of the guards stood up on the table, nearly falling, his fellow men caught him and stood him back up on the table. “Men and women. W****s and b******s… f**k all of you! The good men, the brave men we have lost at war to protect you pricks, and what do you do? You sit here, drink your happy life away while a war wages out there!” A women stands from her stool and stares aggressively at the man. “What do you expect us to do? Do you think a baker like me can hold a spear? I should stick the spear up your ars-“ The man came down from the table and struck her in the stomach. She fell to the floor and coughed out some blood. The other kinsmen’s did nothing, but laugh. They swore to protect. The only thing they protected was their mead. The woman beater looked around the inn and wiped the blood off his knuckles. “Anyone else got a problem with us?” A thundering moment of silence winded through the inn. Beric only had a small dagger which he used for cutting bread. A toy compared to an iron sword, it was useless. “You get yourselves out of my inn, or I’ll report you Lord Mortan!” The innkeeper said in a cold tone. The woman beater drew his sword and walked towards the keeper. He pointed the tip of the sword towards the keeper just touching his neck with the point of the blade… “You’ll do no such thing. If you do, I’ll gut you up like morning breakfast… Now get us more mead before-“He was struck on the back of his head by Darien. Darien grabbed a wooden stool and struck him in the back. Beric didn’t even notice him getting up. The rest of the kinsmen’s drew their swords and came for Darien’s blood. “Come here you little s**t.” They threatened. Darien pushed the stools and a table towards the kinsmen’s to make them tumble. He rushed out the inn sliding pass a middle hooded man. He wore a noble cloth dark as the nights sky, his face was hidden, but with the light in the room a scar  gleamed under his eye. As the inn door closed the hooded man raised his voice. “Well, well. My Nephew won’t take kindly to hear about this. I suspect you lot will be hanged for your treason against the King’s laws.” After he spoke twenty kinsmen came into the inn armed with shields and spears. “Take this lot to the cell’s. Make sure they get a nice spot. I hear the flesh rats have started to appear in the cells now. Good luck, I hear their not fond of company.” They were dragged out of the inn not to be seen again. Beric had once the privilege to see this man once before. He was the Isle Lords uncle or even better, the Eastern Kings brother. His name was Doran Mortan, a man in his fifty’s. He was on the Isle to advisor his nephew on certain matters. Doran walked towards Beric with a slow pace so he could get a good look at him. “Your friend is a brave man. Standing up to men armed with iron? That takes some bloody balls!” He chuckled and sat down with Beric. “If your friend wants to leave a life of fishing and pick up a sword instead. Send him to me.”

“Yes, my lord. I will.” Doran nodded with a smile and walked off. Beric sat with his mead and carried on looking at the map.

After a horn and some bacon it came to the afternoon, he lost track of time so Beric walked out and came to the docks where he found Darien. He didn’t look as cheerful as before, he was staring out to the sea. “Darien? You alright mate?” No response came from him, only the wind of the night returned to Beric. He walked to the end of the port and prodded Darien with a fishing pole from the floor. Darien turned round not with a smile, but with nothing. Beric lost his chuckling smile when he saw his friends face. “We should be out there.”

“Well grab your rod and let’s go, we got coppers to catch!”

“We should be fighting, not fishing.”

“Hey. What that drunk said. Mean’s nothing. Now come on, let’s fish.”

And so this did. They hopped down on to their boat and paddled off into the night.

As the moon rose in the night Mortans Sea glistened in the late night sky. The two fishermen had caught quite the bundle. It seems Darien was right about hitting the edge of Mortans Sea. Beric was on the boats end facing the Isle, while Darien fished off facing the west. There was no jokes, no tales on silence from the two friends. Normally by now, Darien would have talked about one of the girls he fucked in Noble Height, back when he traded to the Eastern Kingdom. No word came from Darien’s salty mouth. Beric didn’t bother talking as no one would reply, only the clash of the waves. Suddenly a sound from behind Beric, as if something fell into the water. Beric turned quickly and it was Darien with his hands holding the end of his side of the boat. Darien was looking out towards the west. “Darien? What is it? Do you see something?” No sound came back, Beric stood up on the boat and kept his balance, he looked towards the west and he saw a ship. It was only a blur, but then more ships came from the side of it, more and more. The flag those ships were flying were clear enough to see. Two golden hammers surrounded by a shape of a white crown. Beric caught something in his throat. “…Arberstans…” Beric quickly grabbed Darien by his shoulder to turn him around. “Darien, we need to head back! Warn the people, warn the Isle!” Darien’s worried face turned into sheer passion. He grabbed his paddle and drove it into the water. “Start paddling boy. Or those Arbers will drown us, in our sea!” The dark sea was tumbled and driven about by the two eager fishermen. Beric took a last glance from behind him. “Two golden hammers surrounded by a shape of a white crown… Arberstans”.  

When they finally came back ashore, Beric ran towards Mortans Keep, but a voiced called for him. A familiar one. “Fisherman, what’s the rush?”