The Cry in the Water Part 3

Jayr and Zena were let into the inn that they had figured it was, a building of ample space despite its two stories only and the corner spot it occupied between other buildings. The man they had encountered let them in, and insisted vehemently that they bring their horses straight on in, more from self preservation than any real concern for the beasts that traipsed cautiously over the wood floor of the once proud establishment.

"If they are left outside in the stable, the demon will come for them and kill us all," said the fear haunted man, his eyes betraying anxiety that threatened the edge of madness.

This man, the father of Burton, finally told them his name was Baerd when they would not be satisfied by anything but a direct response. If anything, rather than he being the host and finding some food and drink for them as was the usual courtesy to travelers, Jayr found himself gathering some things and bringing them to the table, while Zena tried to calm the man as he sat on a stool, staring at the floor and clenching his hand intermittently. They had to speak gently to him for a few moments before he would draw his thoughts back to the present.

"What does your son look like?" asked Zena, passing the man a mug with a very pale ale in it. It seemed he had not been eating well, and awake several nights without sleep. A rather natural response to having family in danger.

"He is fifteen summers and has the blue of his mother's eyes," replied Baerd, already tears starting in his eyes. Clearly it was a relief to have someone to speak to. "He's dark of hair like me, or what I was some time ago. You can't miss him. He's spare of build but tall. One of the reasons they wanted him on the fishing boats. They thought he'd fill out and prove a capable water man."

At that the host, the father of the son trapped on the island, broke down completely. It was clear to Jayr and Zena that he blamed himself without reason for everything that had happened to the missing son. Where the mother was, they did not ask. If it was important, it would come up in conversation at some other point, but at the moment Zena continued to gently coax information from him. Jayr, wizard that he was, held his staff as he sat with them, whispering softly the words of a soothing spell. Clarity returned to Baerd, and he was able to suddenly wipe the tears from his eyes with his hands and clear his throat.

"The beast only comes out at night, and avoids the light of the moon," said Baerd, "creeping along the building foundations so that we can't see it too clearly. You only know its there because it jumps on its prey quickly, and there is only a short cry. It lurks close to the ground, and to the shadows."

"So you have seen it from over here?" asked Zena, holding the man's anxious gaze with her own. "Tell me what it is like."

"It is long," he replied, after a moment of quiet, staring into the distance with a drawn face, as if seeing into a memory one tries to forget. "Like a snake, but with legs, and a long neck. Two red eyes it has, and a mouth that opens large enough to eat a man."

"And has anyone been eaten?" asked Zena.

"No, no not yet," he replied, shaking his head mournfully. He held his face in his hands. "Tonight will be the night. Tonight it will start to eat them. Oh, Orin save us."

"Its not going to eat anyone tonight," cut in Jayr. "Well, at least not those trapped on the island. We are going over there now, and if we can't kill it, we will wound it fatally."

"But how?" asked Baerd, looking up with no little amazement. "What can you do?"

"I do not know yet, since we have not fought it, but doing something, anything is better than just sitting and being afraid."

"But you are going to die!"

"Perhaps, but if what you say is true, then Burton and everyone else over there is also going to die if we all agree to do nothing," replied Jayr, standing up breathing deeply. "You have to face fears, to have a chance of overcoming. I don't doubt there is something evil and powerful over there in the lake, but we are going to do something about it now."

"What do you think?" asked Zena, turning to her companion. "Just ride on over and face it head on?"

"That's what was in my mind," he replied, leaning on his staff and looking out the window. A pale white light was filtering though the dirty glass, filling the room with an indifferent paler. "It will be growing dark within a few hours. We need to find the survivors, and plan our attack."

"Are you two crazy?" asked Baerd with incredulity. "The bridge is broken. You will never get back if the creature cuts you off!"

"We shall see," replied Zena, patting his hand as if comforting a small child.

"The break in the bridge doesn't seem so bad," observed Jayr, looking out a through a filthy window pane. "We could ride and leap it with a little luck. Maybe some enchantment."

"Off to tilt at windmills again?" she chuckled, as they took their horses outside.

"Oh no, those were ogres disguised as windmills," he grinned back.

"I remember," she laughed, "and wasn't our companion the writer from Northberg shocked when it turned out to be true?"

"That was day to remember, but love, this might be a little more difficult. This thing is cunning, and makes choices between meals. Do you have any reservations?"

"Only that we don't turn back until its threat is neutralized, or lays as dead as your windmill ogre."

"That's why I love you," he smiled, cupping her chin in his hand and kissing her tenderly.

Baerd was at the door watching both of the strangers mounting their horses. His face was pale with fear, eyes wide to see if they were actually going to do what they had been saying they planned. Yet, a cool breeze rustled his silvering hair, and seemed to awaken just a sliver of hope within him. His fists were gently clenched, as if trying to raise what reserves of courage still remained.

"I will gather all the others on this side here at the inn," said he. "If you can save any of our kin, we will do what we can to help you get back."

"Thank you," replied Jayr, patting his horse and letting creature move forward towards the bridge.

The stone structure had been built with a graceful arch, spanning some thirty spans of water, and elevated enough to allow small water craft without sail to flow gently underneath it. The construction had taken into account large traffic, and was wide enough to manage two way travel with considerable margin on either side. The years had been kind, and the stonework was relatively unscathed, except for the missing chunk broken off at the far side.

"The horses are scared," observed Zena, her mount skittish as they faced the island and its village which seemed completely abandoned to the eyes.

"I would be too," replied Jayr, "but the day is starting to wain and we must move."

Both spurred their mounts to a quick trot, then a full gallop. The stone of the bridge was soon clattering under their iron shod hooves, and whether horses or riders were quite ready for what was lying hidden in the dark waters of the lake, they all embraced the sky for a moment in one great leap, their fall to earth softened as the wizard reached out to the wind to lighten their landing.