Waterbourne's Song

I'll take the blame for his name damn it, and that's all. Waterbourne, lost something in the translation when I had to give it to the taxman, just so's he could charge me for another mouth to feed. Hmm? Oh, the first name? Donol? A relative of mine? Ha! that was the name of the old blind mule Krenel sold me for twice it's worth. Yep. That's it, he's a combination of a bad translation and a blind mule. Fittin' too...

"Martch" he says soon as he's able. About the only thing he ever would say to me was my own name, and never in a nice way neither. Like he was spittin' it back at me. No idea how old he was when he said it. Must've been about two winters after we found him. Oh yes, you heard right, found the little bastard we did, me an' the missus. Woke up one winter morning and there tangled in the reeds of the river out back of the inn was this old boat, barely floatin', full of arrows and lookin' like a pin-cushion with two dead in it. But there was one live, and screaming to beat the band. Like to pushed it right back into the river, but the missus has a soft spot for bawling' babes, us havin' none ourselves. That's how the name came up anyway. Told the taxman he was brought by water, and it's been Waterbourne ever since.

Useless bastard he was, always underfoot or out makin' some type of trouble, never did like honest work. But strong in that lanky way of his, at least there was that. Should've known how the brat'd end up though, him always gawkin' at the sellswords and soldiers... no honest life in a respectable inn for that one. Course with those parents or whatever they were of his all shot up in that little boat, who'd a thought he'd been otherwise. Swaddled in skins he was, the woman not much better, and the man all in leather and mail. No tellin' where he come from, but we gave raisin' him our best shot that's for sure, me and the missus did. Think she was always too soft on him though. Know what they say, spare the rod and all. Stayed on for a good fifteen, sixteen years though, I'll give him that, Yep sixteen at least. Got better at the job too, had a good way with horses, all the animals really, but especially horses. Even got so's I'd let him handle money. 'Course a lot of the women were lookin at him then too, an' they'll spend more when their minds aren't on payin'. Had to beat him good for thinkin' about takin' liberties with the female guests though, we don't run that kind of place here.

Hmmm? Oh, why'd he leave? Well, like I said, he'd get that look when the soldiers'd come in. You could tell it was just a matter of time, but we tried to keep him on, we did. Me an the missus, specially her, not havin' a child of her own and all. Told him he could have it all one day when we were in the ground....Hmmm? Oh, right, it was midwinter when he up and left. Least the timing was good, not much business then, plenty of time to find new help....

We had the payroll for the local lord's loggers, due back in a couple days from the high country, and oh what a sweet deal that was for us, havin' them workers get their pay at our inn.....Hmm?

Sorry, anyways a day or so afore they was due, in come about four men. Hard lookin' they was. Wearin' bits of leather and scraps of mail, and all armed. Well, if you've been around wayside inns you know the sort, and here we were with all that money under the counter for once in a damn winter...

But they had no way o' knowin' that we thought....

Well I went into the whole act, you know the one.... Gentlemen, fine day for a warm inn and all, some hot stew and fresh bread... and I could tell right off somethin' wasn't right. Never stopped lookin' around, never relaxed, didn't notice the warm fire... And sure enough after satisfying themselves of whatever, they was up and showin' bare steel.

"Where's the payroll fat man?" They says. "Out with it quick and we'll leave you be..."

Aye, leave us be for the crows, thinks I. Well I'm back of the bar with a cudgel within easy reach, but the missus is over by the hearth, pale and not movin' a bit, and I'm thinking no way can I get even one and may the gods have mercy on a poor innkeeper, when the waitin' gets too much and the first one up and smashes the table in front of him and starts screaming for the money.

By Kertigen's jewels I knew it was over then. One of 'em smacked the missus hard an' she goes sprawlin' over the hearth, when sudden as you like the cellar door crashes open and everything stops as quick as it started. Oh Gods no thinks I, suddenly recallin' the boy, an' sure enough there he is, all legs and shoulders, bone and gristle, shaggy as a hill pony, holding a barrel stave like he was born to it. Come to think of it now, after all those years it was that moment when I first noticed his size....

Oh, anyway, he sees the missus, down on the hearth, the hem of her smock startin' to smoulder in the fire and blood comin' from a spot where her head hit the bricks.....

Next thing he's screaming something and climbing all over them three closest to him like some kinda tree monkey. I grab my cudgel and move around behind the first one who's frozen to the spot, and I go to let him have it, but he must've heard something, and, hunching up, took a shot that should've brained the sot high on his shoulders. He whirls around and backhands me and starts to bring that sword of his about, when I notice, and he does too, that the noise has stopped. Lookin' back, there's the boy. Holding the broken ends of a barrel stave in each hand, bits of blood and bone all over him, mouth open in a wordless howl, and absolutely nothing in his eyes. Off this bastard goes for the door and I call the boy to let him go, but I know now he didn't hear a word of it. Like an arrow he's loosed out into the snow and not a minute later there's a short cry cut off real quick like. Being a damn fool myself I went off after them.

When I got about forty yards out into the evening snowfall, there's the boy, down non his knees, blood all over him and I go thinkin' the worse. Quickening my step, I keep moving towards him when I see the body layin' there, part of a barrel stave juttin' from the chest. Well I get there an' the boy ain't movin'. Exhausted he was, an' right away I think to myself I know why he didn't hear me yellin' for him. Seen people like that, I have, back when I was with the baron's troops. Baresark we called it then. Ah, that surprised you did it, fat old Martch doin' a bit a soldiering? Aye, its true, I was young an' stupid once too. Took me six months to desert it did...

But back to the boy...

Well I can't budge him, him bein' a quite a bit taller'n me by now, so's I take off my bearskin vest and put it over his shoulders and went back in to see to the missus. Hard headed as that old bag is I figure she's okay, and right I am. She's up and draggin' the other three bodies to the back door. When she sees me back all alone she gets all pale, but I tell her the boy's okay and she goes back to cleanin' up. Always wondered if she'd've had that look if'n the boy'd come back and not me.....

After a bit come back he does, pale and shakin' and I pour him a mug of good mulled wine, Gods only know why, and tell him t'sit. Which he does, still pale as the winter moons and not sayin' a word. Well I go and spell it all out for the boy now, no tellin' why, 'cept it felt right, how we found him and he wasn't really ours. But if he didn't know that already it's beyond me, him all tall and rangy, with hair like ash and me and the missus short, thick and dark..... Anyway the wife brings him a plate of stew and he wolfs it all down and sits for a bit lookin' at the fire. Then takin' a big swallow of air he says to me without lookin' , "Martch", he says," I'm leaving..."

Well hell, anyone could've seen that coming, but still havin' him around one more season would've been nice. You now how it is breaking in new help. "Wait here" I says to him, and went off to me and the missus room back off the kitchen.

He looked startled when I dropped all that stuff on the bar in front of him. But you should've seen him light up when his eyes took in that sword. Man dead in the boat lugged a hanger with him damn near as tall as me, but you could tell the boy'd take to it right off. Built like him it was. Tall and straight and thin and cold.... Well the leather fit him right enough and the wife'd patched up the arrow holes as best she could. The boots were too big, but thick socks'd take care of that, tall as he was already, you could tell he'd not yet got his full growth, even if you could see he'd never be as broad as those shoulders of his wanted. Still like that, he is, whip-handle lean....

"These come with the man what brought you to us, so we figured they'd be yours someday. I dunno if they were your parents boy, they was dead when we found 'em, but they got you to us and that's all that matters."

Well and sure he was off one cold winter morning, headed to the Crossing. The missus had stashed a little bag of gold for him in the pack I'd bought off that stranded trader a winter or so before, but I guess that's that. I told him to ask for Agonar, he'd know what to do with someone like himself. Agonar always had that same wolfish look as the boy about him every time he'd stop in here for a drink...

Oh, aye, he still stops in now and then, dressed in whatever finery he can find, mismatched all of it. Well, you know what they say, you can take the boy out of the country....

"Martch" he says every time, once he's through the front door, and that and a nod's about all I get from him, though he'll sit with the missus ever' once in a while. Always pays top dollar too, probably trying to rub the fact he's got money in my face. And no wonder that is, him lookin' like a walkin' advertisement for violence, fairly bristling with all sorts of sharp things... Sooner than not some merchant'll come over and he's off escort'n the next day...Never did get an honest job, but I knew he'd never end up that sort of person.

Always got something or other for the missus too, and just that one damn word for me.....

Roose you damn fool boy, hold that with both hands or I'll take whatever you drop out of your worthless hide! See what I mean, never can get good help for a decent inn...

Night to you all, gentlefolk, I'll try to send over a round in a bit, damn busy tonight though....