the Drainer (sci-fantasy)

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A yarn I'm working on. Will probably never make it past prologue. Needs a proper title too.


Prolog.
There was a storm raging outside, but Haines and the others where sitting comfortably in the tavern. Clauth was butchering them in cards as usual, but all was as it should be. There was no immediate danger and most of their work had been done.
‘I still say you’re cheating. Sheesh! You’re almost as bad Old Knuckles’; Haines feigned insult after Clauth's third hand had been revealed.
‘Well, is it my fault you’re supremely inept at this!’ Clauth cheerfully bit back. ‘By the way Old K, damn! Now there was a dice wielding ****! You know my pappy almost lost the entire stock to...’ Clauth stopped. Someone was molesting the door.
‘Let me in! There is a stranger coming!’ Vik the owner of the tavern unlocked the door, a gangly young man entered. His name was Gejorg, but most of the people just called him Young Knuckles, being the grandson of the legendary gambler.
‘Who and where?’ Vik asked.
‘Over by the Happers, near the hills,’ Young Knuckles gasped.
‘Was he alone? Femer?’ Haines broke in. It took the young man a few seconds to continue.
‘Alone.’
Haines let out a sigh, fast followed by everyone else.
‘You mean to tell us you ran all the way from Happer Hills to tell us about some traveler?’ Clauth chuckled. ‘And did you have to scare us half to death in the process?’ Young Knuckles took a breath, not knowing how to go on. ‘There's more, he doesn't carry any visible firearm.’
Clauth chuckled a bit more before he realized he was the only one who was making anything that remotely could constitute as a sound. Then he started thinking, and then worrying like the others.
‘Waitwaitwait, this is a professional traveler? Cuz that's the only reason he would get this far, and he doesn’t carry a ranged weapon?’ Haines wasn't in the mood for pointless speculation ‘Are you sure he didn't have a sling tucked around somewhere?’
‘Hellness! What good would a sling do? Remember Landon? And his “superior” slinging ability? You weren't but I was among those looking for him, we found him at Happers Point dry as sunbathing sand!’ Wils voice went up and down at an erratic pace.
‘Landon was completely vacant! No furniture on the top floor! Two cents! He probably fell victim to the first stray he spotted ten miles coming! Not to mention the lizards that could have taken him! If he had managed to kill one of the smaller ones I'd be amazed!’ Haines was getting more aggravated.
‘C-c-could he be a stray?’ Haines and everyone else turned to look at an obviously anxious Clauth who was sweating profusely and swallowing the words along huge quantities of air.
‘Well he was walking calmly; he was carrying some kind of cage...’
‘Oh Hellness man, DEAL! If he comes he comes! You can ask him if he's a stray when he gets here! Where the **** are we gonna run to, even half dead those buggers see in the dark better then we do! And you’ all know the good running will do us!’ Knowing that Clauth wasn't going to get any calmer, and that he would eventually manage to wind the others up too Haines asked ‘A cage?’ Young Knuckles was about to respond when the door opened.
He was about 1,75m (5’7’’). Had a small frame, as far as Haines could make out, he was wearing a dark brown robe jacket that extended down to his boots, and carried a large cage filled with birds of some sort.


He could see they where not all that clear about who, or what, he was. He could literally taste it.
And the taste was getting more bile by the second, he had to alleviate whatever fear, worry or doubt they had, if only for a moment. He gave his most perfect smile.
‘Hey, I was wondering if I could get a meal and some warm fireplace to enjoy it by. This night is an unfriendly bitch turning meaner by the second’. It seemed to work, they laughed a bit, and he knew they would. He had been around travelers in Usalizch. They where generally regarded as scum, but welcomed none the less. Probably because they traveled, took the risk of traveling in a world full of perils. He just thought of them as a higher cast of cowards, they didn't face the troubles, just moved to lesser ones. Not like these guys. Well, at least that older one. When he had entered he had sensed that mans fear, but not so well, like he was aware of danger, but also was less likely to dwell on it. Do I know him?

Haines was the first to break the silence. ‘Well good that you travelers can cheat whore and jump ship whenever you feel like it but I'm feeling a draft so let Vik here, Vik! Get the man a chair, set you down and get you something, Vik unless you plan on bathing him, place him at suitable distance from the card table’
Hanes made an offhand gesture ‘And unless you’re feeling particularly attached to those critters your carrying, could you leave them at the door? I spend my entire day around animals, have no interest having them at the table’

There it was again. Fear yet not fear. The old guy had just given him a ticket. The other guys were slowly transforming into normal people, the kind he had met in Usalizch. A guy like this old one he had never met. Well, at least not among the non-Femer.

‘Well damn! You should have seen us a minute ago. Right before you arrived we didn't know whether to run or bring out the fireworks and fry you. Some of this buggers thought you were a stray, hehehe’ Clauth was being particularly jovial, dealing the next batch of defeat to the other players.
‘Hehe common mistake happens all the time! Think I have an arrow or two still sitting in the back’ he replied straining a smile.
‘By the way, didn't get your name?’ Clauth was still being particularly jovial, having a person, a travelers not to mention, to pit his skills against.

Here it comes. They'll know sooner or later, and later was ten seconds ago. ‘Well I didn't give it, the name's Larhet’. ‘Ok Larhet, do you play po...’ The card guy froze, as usual a little later than everyone else. And the old guy was afraid and yet...no he wasn't, no fear whatsoever this time? Larhet wondered whether he was reading him properly.
‘Hey Lar, I’m called Haines, that guy's Clauth, the owner of this establishment is named Vik, that’s Wils, the young git there's Gejorg, that's Palle and that last guy at the table to the right is Ulpan, don't ask me why, his pappy was a nutter...Clauth? What's with you?’

‘H-h-he’s got a Femer name...’ Clauth stammered.
Haines looked up, as if he was staring at an undefined point in the ceiling, looked at the floor, then put his face in a level position, never failing to sigh periodically through this process.
‘Clauth.....there is a village to the west of here where the Femer lord allows his people to call their kids names like William, George, Randolph... Femer names and these people aren’t even Femer!’ Haines almost yelled the last part, as if he was making a painfully obvious statement.
‘Stretch your limited imagination Claion, Larhet here is just going home to see the folks; he’s just going home, right Lar?’

Larhet was a bit annoyed. Hellness! He’s got to know I’m Femer and still he shows no ****ing respect. Lar? No-one had called him that before...at least...

Larhet was seated by the side of the fireplace, not too far from the card table, but far enough. It was a comfortable place to sit to your got heat in your bones, some privacy and best of all, you where suitably removed from the card game. Though Clauth was anxious about fleecing new victims, there was a general consensus in most village inns against letting travelers join. Most of them where just too damn good. Abrivar, Old Knuckles, had been one before he settled down.

‘Well not that I don’t enjoy getting trashed here, but it looks as our new “Femer” friend needs company,’ Haines said whilst getting out of his seat. They laughed a bit seeing as the danger was over.
Haines sat down in a chair opposite of Larhet.

‘You are one of them aren’t you?’ Haines asked, the others where getting vocal there wasn’t any danger of being heard. Larhet paused before answering.
‘Yes’.
‘You’re the son of the lord of the west village?’
Again he paused. ‘Yes’.
‘Fair enough, why traveling? If you don’t mind me asking?’
It was a bit uncomfortable, being asked in such an offhand manner by a low one who knew.
‘My father passed away, I had to go home.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry.’
‘Why? Cause my father has passed away or that I have to go home?’ Larhet couldn’t fathom why he said that, probably because the death of a Femer didn’t actually inspire much grief. He wasn’t prepared for the answer.
‘Both I guess’ Haines replied rather quickly.
Who is this guy? He knows I’m Femer and he isn’t even worried, does he even care?’ Larhet almost heard himself saying it out loud.
‘Who are you?’ he asked. Vik came over with some food. From the inn in Usalizch, he had learned that it looked worse than it tasted.
‘You know, you been here before, Clauth has met you once before but he doesn’t remember. You came by here some years ago and bought some sheep from him, you where carrying a Werrenic crossbow then, smart move by the way, traveller’s choice, and how did you know to do that? Hmm it doesn’t matter though; I remember thinking about your bearing. Most un-traveller it was. Almost like you acting... you’re surprised?’
Larhet has trouble thinking. Hadn’t been caught off guard since that evening in The Undertow.
‘Whowhatwho..?’ he managed to blurt out
‘Your father had frequent dealings with a Femer called Edward right?’ Haines almost regretted going this far, but it had been a while since he’d had a chance to talk to someone about these things, and the look on the young mans face was simply too delightful.
‘How do you know these things?’ Larhet almost yelled. The gambling bunch stopped for a second, and then went back to their business; Haines had a tendency to get under your skin at times, nothing to worry about.
‘Does Edward still sleep in his shoes?’ Haines had a field day watching Larhet get more and more flustered over the amount of insight he was presented with. But all things move toward their end, Larhet cleared his throat and looked at the old man.
‘You seem to have had some history with Erasmus Edward, none of my business though. Let’s drop it.’ Larhet was now showing color so Haines stopped pressing him.

‘How?’
‘Huh?’ Haines woke from an off thought.
‘How did you know?’ Larhet asked.
‘You look like a traveler, talk like a traveler and smell like one, clean yourself by the way, but you’re as much traveler as I’m a member of the Femer high council’ Haines calmly told him.
‘Yeah and the dogs rule the east, I asked “How” High Councillor!’ Larhet had a tendency to get agitated as of late.
No… he couldn’t remember what calm was like. Perhaps it was like some of those nights in The Undertow. Perhaps it partly was because of The Undertow he was like this. Damn Blackspell and his bastards.

‘I heard something about some Femer being able to draw force from all living things, not just the lows’ Haines went on. ‘Including sheep…and birds… a lone traveler carrying a cage that big? Not on this side of the desert. Here they bring trinkets and other easily sellable items, small items. Livestock is brought by the caravans, in large groups in order to spot strays more easily, and that’s a ****ing necessity. One stray can bloody well suck a caravan dry, Femer or no Femer. Actually if there is an active Femer in the group, those two’s draining reinforces the effect’.
‘You’re not telling me something new here.’ Larhet wasn’t as annoyed as he sounded.
‘Granted, the bird thing didn’t occur to me, but where the Hellness did you get your information? Edward didn’t even say jack-**** to me about his knowledge about my condition until after The Undertow…’

Larhet snapped shut; he did a slow-motion transformation, choked up and looked like he couldn’t decide whether he was tightening up and falling apart. Talking stopped at the card table; everybody turned to look at Larhet being miserable, though he didn’t notice being miserable. Blackspell! Larhet couldn’t think straight his thoughts two months behind.

Haines had never seen a Femer like this one. Even though his old master had openly shown soft emotion he had never looked this helpless. For a split second he entertained the notion that this young one was actually a stray.
‘Is he okay?’ Clauth asked. Haines knew Clauth was a cowardly, lazy, gluttonous braggart, but when it came to people in pain or with a problem he really came through. That is if he wasn’t eating, sleeping or gambling.
‘He’s fine, he just ate too quickly on an empty stomach, these damn travelers can’t seem to eat like normal people’ Haines quickly made an excuse, Larhet’s condition was not unknown to him, he’d just hadn’t figured seeing it in a Femer.

‘Well so long as he doesn’t puke in it I’ll run him a bath’ Vik had worked at an inn located in the southern district of Mesopotamia called The Flooding, there wasn’t much he didn’t know about travelers, the only people using inns on a regular basic. This young man was obviously not well, although Vik suspected his ailment was more spiritual in nature. A bath usually helped in these situations.

‘No I’m alright!’ Larhet hastily answered whilst making the fastest recovery Haines had seen since.
‘Suit yourself, but if you plan to stay for a longer period of time then take a bath, I’m not having you stinking up the place, damn travelers are about as frequent bathers as the Femer.’ Vik went back to watching the game that was slowly starting up again.
‘Well young Femer, sorry “traveler” that was close. Fortunately these fellows aren’t the sharpest bunch, and they are also very straightforward in their perception of the Femer. Strange…Edward wasn’t big on bathing either, hated the very idea of anything moist being remotely close to his skin.’

Larhet didn’t comment, not surprising Haines noted. Femer were tightlipped about the subject of water, he’d once seen a guy get “crisped” for talking about it. Drained completely. Even Edward had spoken little of it. He’d only given a cryptic answer regarding the incident.

"Larhet? If you ever see Edward again, tell him I'm happy, but also tell him not to look for me."