I came to this place for peace, for I thought that in carrying out a life of self-imposed solitude, the world could forget about me and the harm that I have done. I am Dagomar Dernbut. I have lived longer than most in my former profession, and that is because I was once the best. But that was then, and now I care no more of what I once was. I only seek forgiveness from myself for what I have done, even though I am afraid that I have none to give. And even here, amongst the dampness of the earth, the fierce gales of wind, and the desolate silence that is my mind, I cannot find what I seek. I have decided that I am to remain forever haunted until my bones are picked clean by wolves and grate into the dust. That is my fate, and I have come to terms with it. And for now, I wait for the day that fate will come and send me to live with the Dark Maiden among the stars.
My cabin is small and austere. I have a stove to cook with, a table to eat at, a bed to sleep on, and a desk where I can write my memoirs, the ones I am writing now. I live alone in this rainy place, surrounded by towering oaks and pines. Moss and fungi cover everything in this land, including my clothing when I am not careful enough. Every day is a struggle to survive, and I greet that struggle readily. I trap hares and hunt deer in the forest, and scavenge for berries and nuts when I can; I tend frequently to my carrots, melons, and squashes that grow beside my cabin; and when the weather is calm and the bay is still, I will take the small skiff that I constructed and check my traps for crabs and lobsters while I fish for trout and herring. When I am not looking for food, I spend my time chopping wood and feeding my stove to keep the cold away. The nights are long and a frequent chill runs through the air, carried from the south along with the rains. I live a simple life of necessity and isolation, one that utterly contrasts to the life I lived both on the high seas and in the city of Qarm, but it is enough for me.
Yet the Dark Maiden, Ugur, or whatever entity that is out there that controls the threads of fate, has decided that the world will not leave me in peace. They come often for my bounty, and each time they come, I am reminded of the horrible deeds I have done. Every time another poor, misguided fool comes to claim my reward and I plunge my sword into their chest like butter, or beat them to a pulp and drown them in the bay, or garrote them quietly in the dead of night, I am reminded of the reason they are here and how I killed the only person who had ever cared for me.
I cannot help but notice the irony in my penitence and how some higher being must take a sick pleasure in watching my situation. When I was younger, I craved only fame and reputation; my reputation now surpasses me and in my current state, where all I seek is solitude and a way to atone for my deeds, I am forever pestered by these feeble bounty hunters who are as annoying as mosquitos after a downpour. I curse each and every one of them that cross upon my land, for they give me no choice but to send them to live with the Dark Maiden among the stars. I curse them all, except for one.
I was coming back from an afternoon checking my snares when I chanced upon him waiting at my doorstep. I did not know what to think of him. He looked tired and anxious, and he seemed to carry no weapons at all besides a rusted machete. I figured that if he was indeed here to kill me like everyone else, he would be sorely mistaken. So, I approached him, and he did not notice; to my delight, he jumped when he turned around and saw my imposing figure standing before him. Instinctively, he drew his machete.
“If you think you can kill me with that sorry excuse of a weapon, then you are truly the biggest fool I have ever met,” I said.
“I-I did not come here to try and kill you. I swear.” He responded. His voice was taught and I could see the fear in his eyes. I have seen it plenty of times before from countless men who had realized they had made a mistake in coming here. Their fear always showed, but oftentimes it was too late for them to do anything about it.
“Step away from my door, boy.” I threatened. “I do not wish to wash your blood off of my house.”
“Please, I mean you no harm. I swear.” He threw his machete to the ground. “I would be a fool to think I could kill you; I only wish to talk to Dagomar Dernbut.”
That amused me. Who did this boy think he was? I could think of no one who would come to the edge of the world just to talk with me. No, I did not buy it. “And who are you that thinks you can speak with a wanted man like me?” I asked.
“Because,” He hesitated. “I’m your son.”
I studied the boy, and then I spat. He looked nothing like me. He was tall but scrawny with blonde hair that dropped to his shoulders, whereas I was a large burly man with a shaggy mop of black hair with an equally unkempt beard to match. “You are no son of mine,” I said bluntly.
“It is true,” there was a conviction in his voice as his eyes widened and nostrils flared with eagerness. “Twenty-two years ago, you humped my mother, a tavern wench, at the Red Phoenix Inn in the city of Cronosia.”
Throughout my life, I have visited countless taverns and humped my fair share of women. After a few years, all the taverns and inns soon blurred together. I could not argue that he was wrong, but I still did not entirely believe him. he must have been able to sense my hesitation, however.
“She waited every day for you to return,” he continued. “She wanted so badly to introduce you to me, but you never came back.” He had green eyes, the same color as mine, and we both shared the same narrow cheeks.
“And where is she now?” I asked.
“Dead. She caught the pox two years ago and died within days.” There was silence between us. Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a torn scrap of cloth. He gestured for me to take it.
Upon examining it, I found the custom insignia of two Ds encircled by a tulip that I had used to embroider and mark my gear as my own in my youth. “She used to tell me the story every night of how you two met. It was when you were in service of the Marnish as a soldier defending merchant’s ships, before all of the tales they tell about you occurred, she said. She told me how you and all of your fellow soldiers were rowdy that night as all of you were celebrating some feat you had accomplished. My mother said you were piss-drunk when you dragged her upstairs, and after you were done you immediately passed out. Judging how everyone toasted to you downstairs, she figured you were a big deal, so she cut this off of your tunic to remember you by if you became famous.”
I could not believe it. I stared at the cloth and traced the embroidered insignia. There was no doubt that it was mine. I looked at the boy, and there was a hardness in his eyes that I did not see earlier. At the time, I thought nothing of it, only that it was another thing I shared with him. “Aye, so be it,” I said. I had a son. I could not say I was surprised, I figured I had plenty of bastards in this world who would never know my voice, but this one did. He sought me out.
“What is your name, son?” The word felt foreign as it came from my mouth, almost as if it was forbidden.
“Alexander,” he said. His head was tilted towards the ground and he looked at me wearily.
“Why did you not come find me earlier?”
“I had no reason to,” he paused. “But I do now.”
“And what reason may that be?”
Alexander stood straight, pushing his chest out and chin up as he tried to look me in the eye. “My wife has been taken from me by the Baron of Bracchano and I need your assistance in rescuing her.”
“You are a fool, boy.” I snarked. “You came all this way only to beg me to rescue some woman I don’t know and have no interest in?”
I shamed him, for he lost his proud posture again and looked to the ground. “She is not just some woman; she is my wife and your daughter. Besides, I had no one else to turn to,” he said meekly.
“Why don’t you pay someone?”
“With what money?”
I sighed. I would not help him, for I had promised myself I was done. I could not bear to show my face in any town within the Free Cities, the memories would all come back to me and it would all be too much.
“So, you want my assistance?” I asked.
Alexander nodded.
“Then heed my advice. Forget about your wife, for she is not yours anymore. A bastard with no money like you has no grounds to challenge a Baron of a town, no matter how piss-poor that town may be. Find yourself a new woman and carry on with your life. It would be best, too, to stay away from any conflict; by the look of you, I reckon you would last only a few minutes in a fight.”
“But fath-, Dagomar, please.” He pleaded. “I love her!”
“I do not care a rat’s arse who you love! Until today I didn’t even know you existed, and now you come to me, asking to take off on a mad adventure to rescue some woman I know not?” I looked to the sky and saw storm clouds in the distance. “You should go now, a storm’s coming.”
“I can’t go, what else am I to do?” He asked. “You are my last hope for getting my wife back. Please.”
“Walk away from this place, boy.”
Tears formed in his eyes and I was ashamed of what type of man my son had come to be. “Please, father. I am your son,” he begged.
“Aye, I am aware!” I growled. “And that is the only reason why my sword has not pierced your belly. Now go! Leave like a man and do not come back.”
I said nothing more to him as I sat on my stump and began to skin my dinner while he stared at me with rage. He lingered for a minute but said nothing in response. He spat when he finally decided to walk away.
The air had changed by the time I had finished skinning the rabbit and the winds picked up fiercely. The clouds turned a fierce shade of gray and faint echoes of thunder grumbled in the distance. I thought of my son and was surprised to find myself praying to the Maiden to keep him safe tonight.
********
The storm came in swiftly after dinner and the rain pounded my cabin relentlessly. The sky flashed shades of blue and purple as lightning ripped through the trees and the roar of thunder filled the land. I was content listening to the sound of rain against the wood and thunder rolling across the land when I heard an unexpected noise. Through the cries of the calamitous storm, I heard the deep howl of a timberwolf and many more howling in return. I shuddered at their wicked noises, for timberwolves were wicked creatures. Standing almost as tall as a man, they were ferocious creatures that stalked men like beasts through the night. In a storm this bad, every creature would be sheltering and trying to stay dry, but they must have smelled easy prey and took to the hunt. There was no doubt that the boy was in danger. I jumped from my chair, quickly put on my cloak, and found my sword before I ran out into the wind and rain.
The howls from the wolves sounded close by, so I figured Alexander must have sought shelter somewhere not far from here. After only a few minutes of stumbling through the forests, I heard his cries and hastened to his position.
A large, red wolf had his jaws locked into Alexander’s ankle while two others slowly circled him. He was screaming wildly and stabbing at the wolf with his rusty machete to little effect. If I had come any later, I would have stumbled upon the wolves feasting upon Alexander’s corpse, but the Maiden must have been watching over him, for I was able to bring my sword down on a large black wolf that was about to lunge at his throat. The beast whimpered as it fell to the ground. I quickly plunged my sword’s tip into the back of its skull. The red wolf released its grip on Alexander as it and the other black wolf turned to face me. They snarled harshly and for a moment I thought this would be how I died, with my entrails torn out by wolves, but as the two beasts looked upon their fallen companion, they must have decided that the meal was not worth the risk for they slowly backed away and retreated into the forest.
My son laid there in disbelief as the rain poured upon us; he was wide-eyed and panting as he processed what would have certainly been his imminent death.
“Are you alright?” I asked him.
He took a series of deep breaths to calm himself down. “I’m alive,” he said, staring into the open space, still reeling from the event. “My foot is hurt; I think I might need help walking.”
I did not want to bring him back to my cabin, but he would die out here otherwise, exposed to the elements and easy prey if the wolves decided to come back. So, with a sigh, I offered him my hand and provided support as he limped back to the safety of my warm cabin. Water dripped from our soaked clothes onto my floors and I quietly cursed because I knew that it would seep into the wood and mold will start to grow.
“Thank you,” he said. I laid him on my bed and elevated his injured leg with a split log. As I inspected his injury, I found that his wound was only superficial; the wolf had only pinned him for another to strike.
“You’ll live,” I said curtly as I ripped a piece of cloth from a tattered shirt and bandaged his ankle. “This will stop the bleeding.”
“You don’t need to worry about me,” he said flatly. “I’ll be out of your life in the morning.”
I grunted in agreement and we sat in silence. I did not know what to say to him. It had been five years since I had company and small talk had become foreign to me.
“Did you carve her yourself?” Alexander asked.
He pointed to my shelf that held the wooden bust of Natalie. Her face was rough and misshapen, and the wooden sculpture was nowhere near as beautiful as she was in real life, but I was proud of my work. Sometimes, in the dark of night when I lay alone in my bed and the memory of my mistake would come flooding back to me, I would reach for her bust. Sometimes too, I swear her spirit is there with me, and I take comfort in her presence.
“Aye.”
“I am impressed,” He replied. “Who is she.”
“No one,” I said flatly, and he understood that the topic would end there. He sat there, studying the bust for a considerable amount of time as I watched the flames dance in the stove.
“She reminds me of my wife,” he said softly. “Her name is Irina.”
I smiled. “A pretty name.”
“Aye, her name is sweet on the tongue like honey, and she is even sweeter than that. If you had ever seen her, you would understand why I cannot just give a beauty such as her up so easily.”
“A pity,”
“I swore to her that I would never let anyone drive us apart, and I do not intend to break that oath. I will rescue her from the Baron of Bracchano or die trying.”
“Is that so?”
“Aye,” he said harshly. “It is. Mark my words, I will do whatever it takes to rescue my Irina, even if it means killing Lord Ascianus himself.”
I flinched at the name. It was a name that has haunted my dreams for a while now, one that has prevented me from finding the peace I seek. It was a name I had once sworn revenge on.
I turned to him slowly, with wide, beady eyes that reflected the dancing flames beside me. “Did you say, Ascianus?” I asked slowly. I nearly spat when I said the name.
Alexander raised an eyebrow at my sudden interest. “Aye, Lord Ascianus is the Baron of Bracchano.”
“Lord?”
It took him a second to understand, but when he finally did, his eyes too widened. “How did I not realize this before?” He said softly. “Lord Ascianus, now the Baron of Bracchano, and the very same who you are acquainted with, was the one who took my wife.” He looked at me, practically trembling in anticipation of my response.
I turned away from him and stared into the flames as I tried to conceal my shock.
“You said you are leaving in the morning?” I asked.
“Aye.”
I took a deep breath and looked around my cabin. I was proud of it, for I had built everything in it completely by hand, but it never brought me the satisfaction and peace that I had hoped it would. Now I must abandon it and allow it to be reclaimed by the wild. For a while, I had been mulling over the idea, but I never gave the thought any serious credibility, but as my son stood here claiming to be aggrieved by the same man who ruined my life, I had no choice but to see this as a sign from the Maiden. After five dark years, I would finally get my revenge, and with it, maybe peace.
“Alright then,” I said. “It will be a long journey back to the Free Cities, and you will need some company.”