The Last of the Guardians: Insurrection Read online

  When closing the door, Corinta shakes a lot and talks to her daughter: – Melina, bring me a glass of water. – She goes sitting in one of the room chairs. When bringing the water and deliver to his mother, Melina sees that she is nervous and asks: – Mom, why didn't you tell about the noise and the strange? – My child, we do not know what kind of confusion this man got himself and we help him. If he's wrong, we will also pay for what he did, so it is better to keep in secret, at least for now. – Melina shakes his head in agreement with the mother.

  Still recovering, Corinta is no longer so sure about having helped the man. – Should I have listened to Moahn? Now our destiny is bound at this man, at least until he gets better and get out of our house. Distressed, she knees and says a prayer: – Oh God, let this stranger is not a bandit and that does not make us any harm. – She repeats the request several times.

  A little calmer, she rises and observes the belongings of the stranger. The items appear to be a complete set of armor. He has copper and bronze tones, silver chainmail and details in old gold. The helmet is long and has two side blades, slightly concave, ranging from the top to chin height, engraved with a stylized shield format in low relief, having two semicircular openings for the eyes and above the forehead location, a amethyst shaped as a lozenge.

  The belt with the sword is finely crafted in the leather weft interweaves old gold thread and tiny amethyst, forming heraldic symbols. The sheath also has crafted details in the form of mandalas, with small sapphires at their intersections. Corinta pulls a portion of the sword out of the sheath and the brightness of the blade, reflecting ambient light, dazzle her eyes. The sword has many strange inscriptions in its blade, not having any teeth or fight slot, maintains an aspect of newly forged. Sheathing the sword again, it turns his attention to the shield.

  She had never seen a shield like that. Wide and thick, seemed to weigh more than one hundred thirty-two pounds, but when she helds, it was not even a quarter of that. Its upper part had a high central peak arrow-shaped, with two vertical gaps semielípticos separating the remainder of the concave upper edge.

  The sides had the upper part straight, linked to two very soft semicircles, culminating in two oblique cuts, slightly rounded, joined in the center, forming the tip down. The metal reflected the slightest light, with a different brightness, was not made of anything she had ever seen. Emanated a strength, something she could not identify, just feel. The work, in relief, was superb, two dragons facing edges. Of their mouths issued fire that came down and were connected in the center, where he had a stylized shell, and around, several runes of power.

  Both the central shield, as the eyes of the dragons had amethysts filling inside. The top edge was crafted in silver and had near the center, a 'V' format and in the midst thereof, had a triangular shape in low relief pointing down. At the bottom end, there was also a silver triangle with the point up, in high relief, in contrast to the top, and its shape was smoothed with light silver lines, that encounters itself with the edges. The traces resembled much to the helmet and the belt and were of an old style, even ancient. This was not a common armor, of this Corinta was sure.

  Suddenly, strange noises are heard in the surroundings of the house and Corinta gets back to scared. She casts a new look to the armor, now, figuring that, if the guards returned, they could enter the room and find everything. – Melina, help me pull the mat with the stranger to the pantry. – Each one takes at one end of the mat, on the side that is the head of the strange and pull with maximum strength they possess, but could only drag the mat for half a meter. Panting, the mother talks to her daughter: – go, now, to the fishmonger and call your father, tell him that I need that he comes now. Say no more, we do not know who may be listening. – Melina nods in agreement and, opening the door carefully, runs off to the fishmonger.

  Meanwhile, Corinta takes, piece by piece, the armor and place it in her bedroom, the shield and the sword behind the closet and the other items inside the laundry basket. When back to the room, she realize that the strange move himself and that the curative is red because the wound back to bleed again. – It must have been when we move him, but I can not take the risk. – In this, Moahn arrives scared, along with Melina. – What happened? Are you all right? – Corinta reports the event and his fear. The fishmonger, also concerned, take the mat tips, where they had caught and mother and daughter take the tips where are the feet and drag it to the pantry.

  Corinta remake the curative, with new application of patch and immobilizes the stranger with straw cushions so the cut would did not open again. – You'll still put us in a big mess for it, woman! – the fishmonger exclaimed – Stop it, Moahn, don't you see I'm already worried enough?! Go, take care of your fishes, I needed your arms, not your tongue! – The fishmonger sulks his face, leaves the house muttering and slams the door behind him. Melina, amusing, looks to the mother and chuckles, who returns with an eye wink and a mouth corner smile.

  – I think I'll make a nata cake for that hard head, so who knows it better that face of who sucked lemon – she talks to her daughter, the way to the kitchen. – Lets help Mom? Please? Please? – Melina begs to her mother, jumping and pulling her skirt bar. – All right, but if you mess will have to clean! – Corinta retorted, taking the flour and eggs.

  Awakening

  The days pass with no new surprises, the daily routine imposes its rhythm. Prepare breakfast, take care of the stranger, clean the house, prepare lunch and all other duties of a housewife.

  Corinta instructed his daughter to observe the state of the man, after all it's been four days since its rugged arrival and he had not awakened, even after the fever assign, shaking badly and writhing. Perhaps the injury was worse, than she imagined, or he had other internal injuries.

  She figured that, if he did not wake up soon, would die, because as was unconscious, only drank infusions and water, several times throwing up, your body would eventually become very weak and wither away to death.

  Melina, who no longer bear to man's expectation wake, visited him several times a day. Checked if the bandage was clean, if he had a fever and, occasionally, rocked gently to see if woke up, but did not seem to have any effect, because the stranger just babbled disconnected words and still unconscious.

  It was only in the evening of the next day that Corinta heard her daughter scream and saw her running toward him. – Mom, the man woke up, run, come see! – Mother and daughter were quick to the pantry.

  Upon entering the room, Corinta felt the eyes of strange monitor every move they did, he tried to move and gave a little muffled groan, turning his gaze to the ribs, even with the dressing. – What happened? –the man said with a voice like sandpaper. – You lay in front of our door, unconscious and injured. – Corinta answered.

  The stranger turns his attention to the room, watching the walls stuffed with several shelves of food: flour, rice, spices, meat and salted fish, olives in brine, some radishes, a small bag of onions, garlic heads, bananas and a few apples.

  On the ground, some tanned animal skins, three large jars, probably with water and a bag of salt, since half. A slight musty smell, mixed with spices and fish, round the air and moisture characteristic environments that do not get much sunlight. – Where am I? Where are my things? – the stranger questions. – You are in Moahn house, harbor fishmonger, and we are not thieves because your stuff is stored and you will be delivered. – Corinta said, annoyed by the question. – Sorry, did not mean to offend you. I thank and welcome the help. Certainly would have died without your care. – Trying to get up continued: – I would pay for the help. – He withdrew a small leather bag that was inside my pants, attached to the waistband, on the right side. – No need. – Interrupted Corinta. – I did it because my daughter asked.

  The strange looks long to the girl and, then, responds with a small smile. – Thank you, little one. My name is Galaniel, I am a knight of the Citadel. I am indebted to you which in my power, just ask and I will – said the man, turning
to lie because the wound began to throb and the dressing to be pink. – My name is Corinta and this is Melina; my husband is in Moahn fishmonger and must return later. Try to rest now, because I see that your injury is still not fully healed. Rest, later we will talk – Corinta concludes, leaving the room and taking Melina with her.

  Alone, Galaniel demands remember the events that brought him here. Remember the boy and his coins, confusion inside the tavern and, vaguely, of walking toward the inn and two shadows appear in front. After that, he only remembers a twinge of pain and irresistible sleep. – I wonder what happened... who attacked me... If I had not drunk so much... – With these thoughts he came back to sleep.

  His sleep is tormented by a nightmare where a separate head of a body flies away, rolling on the wooden floor, then revives the moment of pain and sees a body falling in front, while listening in the background sounds coins clinking on the floor. He wakes up abruptly and sees Corinta beside him, holding a bowl of hot soup, almost down with shaking Galaniel. – Easy, you just woke up to that feed. For a long time you are consuming only liquids. – With the forehead glistening with sweat, Galaniel calmer, looking to sit, leaning his back on the wall near the corner of his mat.

  When he smells the soup, his stomach complains the days of convalescence and he begins to eat voraciously, but he is interrupted by Corinta. – So you will vomit all evil and what are eating. Eat slowly – she says, handing him a slice of bread thrashed. Galaniel meets the woman and starts to eat slowly, dipping small pieces of bread in the broth of the soup.

  When it was almost done, Moahn, who had finished dinner, appears in the pantry, watching Galaniel but not speaking. He was a pretty thin man and tall, almost an inch more than the guardian, sun tan, bald on top of the head, surrounded with a 'crown' of black hair already well-marked by gray hairs. The man had passed the fifty and some springs, but was in good physical shape, probably due to his work.

  After dinner, the guardian puts the dish next to his mat and looking at the fishmonger, speaks: – thanks for your generosity, you and your family saved my life. – Moahn reddens the face, remembering that reproached his wife for helping a stranger, and answered: – It is our duty to help those who can and who need our support. – After a pause, he continues: - my wife told me that his name is Galaniel and you are a knight of the Citadel. What is your caste? Forwards? Biota? – After drinking some water, brought by Melina, Galaniel replies: – neither one nor the other, I am of the caste of guardians. – So it's one of those mongrels? What is the caste of your father? – Bypasses the fishmonger, with disdain, as the mixture of varieties is not well regarded. – Both caste of my parents are the same: Guardians.

  With visible astonishment in his eyes, the fishmonger remains the question. – I found that there were more men in this caste. The only one I remember was Galtanion, last representative of the guardians in the high council, but he was too old to be your father and has crossed over many years. – With a glimpse of sadness in his eyes, the guardian explains to the fishmonger: – yes, he was the last of my caste. Galtanion was not my father, but my paternal grandfather. My father made the passage in thousand six hundred and nine, thirty-eight years – he concluded, but Moahn, who was still not satisfied, continued: – Why you did not take the place of your grandfather at the high council? – Looking hard, Galaniel answers: – other asks questions to a fishmonger port, right?

  Moahn silences, and temporizing with the guardian, continues: – the matters are that I am grateful for their hospitality and would like to reciprocate by paying for the work I've caused. – He removes a gold coin of his small leather pouch and provides it to the fishmonger.

  Moahn eyes widen at the sight of the currency whose value is more than a year of income in his fishmonger, and is quick to pick up and bite it. After doing so, opens a smile to Galaniel, saying: – relax and as long as you want, I will provide the best accommodation for you and bring you a change of clean clothes. I also will arrange hot water for a bath if you want. – Yes desire, these rags are already very dirty and I imagine that my scent is not the best – ends Galaniel. Moahn, out of the pantry, does reverence to the keeper and goes into the kitchen to talk to his wife. – Man, we hit the jackpot; this man is rich and rewarded us with a lot of money. We need to provide better accommodation for him.

  Annoyed, Corinta replies: – I spoke to him he did not need to pay because we had done this for our daughter.

  – Stop nonsense, woman, you know how we are in need of money and really save his life, nothing more righteous than he compensate us. – We save? My memory is a little different – Corinta pinned. – Shhh. Now go take warm water for him to shower and pack up the girl's room for him to stay, she will sleep with us. I'm here to stitchery, see if he has clean clothes that fit the guardian. – He gets out quickly by the room door. Corinta puts more wood on the fire and fills the pot of water, still complaining about her husband's attitude alone, thinking about how men are venal and only think about money. – He did not want to help the man. Humph. – Shut up and begins to tidy Melina’s room for the new 'guest'. Galaniel was back to bed and had a nap, a due to weakness and a full stomach.

  Moahn crosses the port, turns left at the lighthouse and walks two hundred meters until you reach Crum’s, the couturier. He knocks on the door, until a man in his sixty-five, looks out the window, shouting: – what the hell is happening, is this time to knock on the door of others? – The fishmonger replied: - down quickly, old man, who is knocking is money, and he is anxious to be served. – The old man closes the window and down the stairs, still muttering. When he opens the door, he recognizes the fishmonger and says: – since when fish gives some money? Contact soon whatever, Moahn. Fumbled my sleep for nothing, I will tear your skin and sew a pair of boots to warm my feet in winter. – Ignoring the old man’s talk, Moahn explains his need. – I need two shirts and two pants for a visit that come to me. – The old man looks suspiciously at the fishmonger, saying: – and he came naked? Did you not bring luggage? – Angry, Moahn, removing something from his pocket, knocks on the table - Brought yes, here, O! – Take the hand, a silver coin is on the table. Crum handles the currency and examines it and, with a smirk question: – first quality luggage. Well, what measures it? – The question surprised the fishmonger who had not thought of that.

  Drawing on his experience in weighing fish and crustaceans, thought of the guardian and said: – a meter and seventy-five, one hundred pounds, very strong, broad shoulders. – The tailor looked up, as if to make imaginary calculations and answers, walking to his cabinets. – This should be well off I'll give you the larger pieces I have here. If it does not serve, bring it here tomorrow, in an hour of normal people, I make adjustments – he says, returning with the clothes on hand and delivering them to the fishmonger. Moahn, speaking anything, nods his head to Crum, and walks in the home sense.

  After putting water in a pan, big enough to fit a person, Corinta go to the pantry and wake Galaniel, shaking him. – Your bath is ready, sir. – Call me Galaniel, there is no need for formalities – the guardian responds trying to get up. Corinta realizes that he is not able yet to make effort and helps him to stand up. Leaning on her and the walls, the guardian can get to the bathroom. He tries to strip the shirt, but trying to move with the left arm, he lets out a little moan.

  Corinta sees that he cannot do it alone and helps pulling his shirt over his head. Holding the shirt in her hands she cannot take observing that the man in front of her is very strong, having well-defined and robust muscles, but what really draws her attention are the various scars that spread throughout the trunk, even on his face there are some that were hidden by the low light of the pantry.

  Galaniel realizes what is being observed and says: – I've been in many battles, soon this cut will be just another in my stories. – Outlines a slight smile to the woman, who feels embarrassed by the indiscretion and leaves the bathroom with a red face, saying: – if you need more help, you should wait for my husband w
ill be coming. Alone in the bathroom, Galaniel smiling amused by the situation, can take the rest of the coat of mail and clothing. With great care, enters the tank and, before submerging the body, remove the bandage and plaster remains. The hot water does its job, the guardian can relax and, with that, the sore muscles rest.

  After staying a few minutes just feeling the warm water temperature, he wets the head and reaches out to grab the soap and the sleeve that are on top of a stool beside the tub. He begins on the head, because his hair is very dirty, with remains of blood and wine and embarrassed by several nodes. Slowly he can leave them in a satisfactory condition and continues through the bath by the arms, legs, trunk, leaving the last local cut.

  When she arrives, passes the sleeve around and, by hand, cleans the points and observes healing, checking for signs of infection. Noting that the wound is healing satisfactorily, she begins to dry, ending at the exact moment when Moahn returns with new clothes in hands and places them on the stool in the bathroom.

  After drying with difficulty, Galaniel, wears the new clothes and although his sleeves have been a little tight, all served satisfactorily. Leaving the bathroom, he goes towards the pantry, but the fishmonger leads to Milena’s room and, sitting on the bed, the guardian sees the injury itself and makes the dressing, then throw it in the bed of straw. – Of who is this room? – Galaniel questions. – Do not worry, it's my daughter’s, but she will love to stay in our room for a while – responds Moahn, all smiles. – Take your time, it’s your as long you like –the fishmonger concludes, leaving the room.