The following morning, Rick slathered mortar of sand, lime, and water onto the top layer of wall and with another soldier lifted one of the heavy granite blocks onto the mortared bit. The completed wall was three stones thick and more thirty stones high. Keeping the residents of the Bottoms out of Barabook seemed absurd to him. There were magicians there.
He turned around to survey the low houses down by the garbage pit, wondering how Rogerin was doing. A hunchbacked boy in a red cape stood near. Beside him was a giant of a man, nearly twice the size of Eri, wearing the new red tunic Eri had gotten the day before. The giant watched the passing clouds. Eri watched Rick.
Rick turned back around and worked.
By midday, Eri was still there, along with his huge friend Rick heard referred to as Bob the Giant. Rick walked over to them with his food, carefully eyeing the giant, ready to use magic to defend himself if necessary. But the giant had sat down and seemed more interested in the clouds than the wall or him. Up close, Rick’s heart fluttered at the giant’s size, even seated. He admired Eri for choosing such a companion. Rick realized the giant wasn’t a man at all, but a boy, close to his own age or perhaps even younger. But big. Rick had never seen anyone so large.
“Here,” Rick said, handing his overflowing plate to Eri.
The giant looked at the plate, up to Eri, and back to Rick, who handed the giant the food. He happily started in on it.
“I haven’t changed my mind,” Rick said. “It nearly killed you before when I cast that one wing.” He looked at the end of the wing, at the damaged and filthy tips of the feathers. He wished with all his might that he knew how to change the wing back to an arm.
“You know, Ricky,” Eri said, “here in Barabook, there are hundreds of people different from normal. People born without a limb or fingers or otherwise deformed. Some people are born without much of a brain but can still live happy lives. There are people who are blind or deaf. So many have been damaged by disease still survive. But me? I am the boy with one wing. With this cloak I can sometimes pass myself as a mere hunchback. Do you realize how useless one wing is? If you can’t take it away, make me whole by giving me two wings.”
He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t risk it.
“Who are your friends?” Geoffrey asked, coming up behind Rick and handing his plate to the giant, who said, “Oh, goodie,” and started in on that food, too.
“Survivors.”
A girl ran in their direction, up from the Bottoms, wearing a tattered green cloak and red cap. She ran straight to Rick and dove onto him in a hug, nearly crushing the air out of him. He pulled back her cap to get a better look.
“Lydia?” She looked so pale from the last time he’d seen her.
“I knew you’d come,” she said, still holding him tightly. “I knew it. Take us away from here, Ricky. Please. Take us away. Oh. Food.”
Some of the soldiers from the Bottom’s wall had brought more food, which Eri now accepted, along with Lydia. Others from the Bottoms walked up to the wall. Soldiers served the kettle of cooked meat and vegetables, and distributed the food to anyone who came, soldiers or people from the Bottoms.
“Doesn’t Alborn notice?” Rick asked Geoffrey, waving his hand at the people and food.
“The other workers are around the corner,” he answered. “This here is our territory. No one wants to be this close to the…aroma of the Bottoms while eating. We’re fairly safe here.”
The giant was happily working on his fourth plate of food.
“Rogerin said you brought Neighbor,” Lydia said after she’d gobbled her meal. “She came back to you? Forgave you for…” She looked out of the corner of her eye at Eri. “For you know what. Where is she?”
“Safe enough,” Rick answered.
“Sure,” Lydia said. She stood, and walked around Rick, waving her arms. “Where are you, Neighbor? You can come out here.”
Rogerin approached from the direction of the Bottoms. He was now clean-shaven, but still wore his long hair coiled at the nape of his neck. He walked next to a tall, thin woman near his own age with long brown hair and green eyes, just like those in Rick’s family. Perhaps she was a relation.
“Anna, we have a real unicorn on our side,” Lydia whispered. “Oh, Ricky, this is Anna. She’s Mistress of the Barabook Guild of Magicians.”
Rick greeted her with a bow. “I am at your service, ma’am.”
“There is a lot of serving needed here,” she responded. She seemed quenched and resigned. “We’ve been waiting for you.” She gave Rick a faint smile before turning to get some food.
Rogerin watched her walk away, then raised his eyebrows at Ricky and nodded before following her.
Lydia sidled up to Rick and whispered, “So when are we leaving this place? What’s your plan?”
Rick sighed. “I don’t know yet. Hopefully within the week.”
“A week.” She closed her eyes and crossed her arms against her chest. She then laid a hand on Rick’s chest, and said. “A week, then. Promise?”
Again with the promises. He nodded, and after eating her lunch with Ian, she skipped back downhill to the stinky Bottoms.
Before the food was gone, the soldiers went back to work. The Bottoms folk licked the plates clean and returned to their miserable hovels. Most of them. Eri and his giant friend remained. At the end of the work day, Rick turned his back on Eri and returned through the city gate to first check on Neighbor and then find his barracks near the wall, where he ate supper.
Every day Geoffrey met with other officers to catch word of Segan’s rescue plans from the general. Every day Geoffrey reported on the inactivity to Rick, who wanted to scream, to shoot some magical sense into the general. He worked harder and faster on the wall, taking out as much of his frustration on the work as he could. It wasn’t enough.
“None of us are happy about this,” Geoffrey told him. “You will need to start making plans. Alternate plans. Just in case.”
Rick slathered more mortar on the wall and heaved a granite block up to set it in place. Geoffrey said that he, Aldric, needed to start making plans. Alternate plans were always a good idea. He felt more anxious each day hanging around this city when there were people who needed rescuing.
Hold on, Father and Lolly.
* * *
Rick encouraged Geoffrey, Petros, and Ian to spread the word to others they knew were sympathetic and more than willing leave Barabook and rescue their king. The city blacksmiths came into unexpected money with an onslaught of swords needing sharpened. The secret rescue army was on alert, getting prepared and readying to move.
On Rick’s orders, Rogerin remained with the magicians in the Bottoms, rarely away from Anna’s side. According to Rogerin, he and Anna and the other magicians were busy practicing their magic, exchanging spells they knew—levitating, camouflaging, making people drop whatever was in their hands, throwing voices, and more. The Bottoms was a perfect place to practice. The magicians certainly hadn’t planned on their practice sessions being entertainment, but it lifted the spirits of the dejected Ordinaries living near the garbage pit, especially when the magicians trying new tricks failed, and the Bottoms heard raucous laughter for the first time since its separation from the city. Rogerin also gave the magicians lessons in acting, how to look unobtrusive and neutral, but also to be ever aware of their surroundings.
Gaufrid and Bertran reported in Gaufrid had purchased a wide brimmed had to fall over his red scar. They described the fleet of merchant ships coming and going from the river’s mouth. There was great wealth here, they told Rick, with a twinkle in their eyes. Apparently, the first thing the soldiers rebuilt four years ago after the hurricane were the docks. After all, those provided income for the city. Many of the houses near the shore had been flattened and washed away by the hurricane, and the current line of mansions on the cliff all belonged to the rich, with the mayor’s mansion the most prominent. Bertran said that the further you got from the sea, the rebuilding wasn’t as obvious, although there were still buildings needing repairs.
“Found out that we don’t need to use our usual talents here,” Gaufrid told Rick with a wink. “Eating establishments down by the sea have back rooms where gambling is popular. The places on the cliff have the richer customers, but the ones by the docks have the crew hands who just got paid and are willing to try their hand at making their money grow.”
Bertran laughed. “These people. It’s like they can be so smart about business, but in the business of cards and dice, we are kings. It didn’t take very long to catch on to the rules. Did we mention that Barabook is a wealthy city?” He patted his full purse.
“I’m not even sure some of the coins they gave us are real money,” Gaufrid said. “They have different figures and designs on them, not your Farhner coins, and certainly not Brandt’s heavy ones. I had to bite down on them to check the metal.”
When Rick next saw Hobbie, the thief entered with all smiles. Rick wondered if he, too had been gambling and winning. Hobbie wore new boots instead of his leather shoes tied with string around the soles and tops.
“I love this town, Boss,” he said. “The people here are a whole different flock.” He leaned close to Rick. “Very easy and gullible with foreigners.” Hobbie laughed with delight. He also carried a new rectangular leather pack like the merchant men of Barabook did. Rick didn’t want to ask how he acquired these. He felt like warning Hobbie to be careful, but that was like telling a butcher not to cut himself or a carpenter not to hammer his thumb. Maybe Gaufrid and Bertran could teach Hobbie some gambling skills. Rick shook his head. Hobbie had almost an innocence about him making him unable to adapt those types of skills.
Rick checked in at the stables and inn each night after supper. He hadn’t heard from Jarvis or Synne for a couple of days, but assumed were having a fine time robbing from the rich. He felt responsible for them, even though he was the youngest of the group. Rogerin was doing all right for himself down in the Bottoms, but the others? He wanted to warn them each to be careful, that their talents could get them into trouble more so here than elsewhere. Whatever was he thinking to have enlisted these six connected to him? It wouldn’t matter for long, though. There was a more pressing matter. His own skills and talents were being wasted here in Barabook. He hated this delay when there was important, immediate action needing to be taken. Why couldn’t General Alborn see that? Even Neighbor was frustrated and insulted for not being called on for advice. Didn’t they know her history? Her wisdom and experience? How could the people in charge ignore such a treasure?