Warden (Book 2: Lure of the Lamia) (5 page)

Chapter 7

Errol’s
journey back home took the better part of a week. Along the way, he stopped at the Pierce farm to present them with the amarok hide. It was little solace to them; old Benton had died of his wounds. They thanked him, but told him he could keep the pelt. (He was silently grateful that no one had had the poor manners to mention the dogs. The fact that he’d come back without them was explanation enough.)

It was night when he finally arrived home at the Warden Station – five days after leaving the White Widow’s cabin. Counting the time spent hunting the amarok and dealing with the basilisk, he had been gone something like ten days – a lifetime when you spent every spare moment battling living nightmares.

The Warden Station was a modest outpost that consisted of the Station House, a barn, and a few other buildings. Errol had lived here his entire life, so it was the only home he knew. In fact, as the job of Warden tended to be handed down from father to son, numerous generations of the Magnus family had lived here. That said, the family actually owned a modest parcel of farmland not too far away. Although he and Tom had regularly visited the farmstead, no one had actually tried to grow anything there in ages.

Upon arrival at the Station, he took the horse to the barn, unsaddled and watered it. He actually liked the big animal, but he was wary of growing too close to it. Like the Pierces’ dogs, horses and other domesticated animals had a tendency not to last very long in the company of Wardens, so it didn’t pay to get too attached to them. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t give any horse he rode the very best care and attention when he could.

After finishing with the horse, he went inside the Station House. It was initially a modest structure that had been expanded over the years until it included not only the Warden’s office, but also his living quarters and a few other areas.

Errol went directly to the pantry, where the day’s meal should have been placed if no one were around to receive it. Inside, he found what he was looking for: a basket of recently-cooked food, which contained freshly baked bread, and a plate of grilled meat and vegetables – items obviously meant for dinner. In addition, there was a small wheel of cheese, cooked sausages, and eggs. These, he assumed, were for his breakfast.

This, in Errol’s opinion, was the single redeeming aspect of being a Warden: the food. The people of their wards cooked the food and provided the meals for the Wardens. Thus, every evening, someone would arrive with dinner, as well as breakfast for the next day. If no one were around, the person would leave the food in the Station House pantry, taking the pots, pans, and any leftovers from the previous day with them when they left.

As to lunch, Tom had always required that a certain amount of dry goods and non-perishables be delivered. Those were the items that would serve as the midday meal when Errol and Tom (now Errol alone) made their daily rounds. In addition, as long as he received a heads-up regarding the fact, Tom – like the prior Wardens in their region before him – didn’t even require the meal to be cooked, citing the fact that Wardens really needed to know how to cook for themselves.

These were all things that Errol had continued in his brother’s absence. Things he contemplated as he ate the meal that had been delivered. When dinner was finished, he stood for a moment, wearily looking out the Station House’s main window at the aviary. Typically, he checked the ravens every night before he went to bed, as Tom had taught him. There was no telling when a bird would arrive with an emergency message, and Errol tried to be as responsive as possible. Tonight, though, he was just too tired. Regardless of any potential situation, he had endured too much recently and was simply in no condition to deal with anything that required him to do more than hold a pillow down on a set of boxsprings with his head. With that thought, he went to bed.

*****

Errol slept soundly for what felt like the first time in weeks. He awoke refreshed, but still felt tempted to sleep in. Duty and training, however, forced him to rise.

His typical routine usually consisted of exercising, weapons training, breakfast, and studying. Also, Wardens kept a daily log which he had neglected to bring on his trip with him, so he now had to play catch-up in terms of stating everything that had occurred since he’d left. He’d also have to cross-reference everything by writing it for a second time in the reference manuals. It was one of the many chores that he had hated before, but he certainly appreciated its value now that he was the person in charge, albeit (hopefully) temporarily. He also had to check the ravens to see if any emergencies had arisen in his absence.

Bearing all that in mind, Errol went through his normal schedule but added one extra item on this particular day: he had a long, leisurely bath after studying. By his estimation, he had close to a week’s worth of grime on him (along with blood, gore, and other repellent substances). With any luck, all he would have to do after scrubbing himself clean was write in his log and the manuals, and check the birds.

Amazingly, this turned out to be one of the few times when reality actually meshed with his expectations, and he was essentially able to follow the schedule he’d mentally mapped for himself. Thus it was that, as Errol was leaving the aviary later (thankfully, it appeared that there had been no emergencies in his absence), he almost bumped into Talia O’Dell.

“Hello, Errol,” she said, smiling seductively. At sixteen, Talia already had a womanly figure, and she knew it. In addition, she was very pretty (although this had resulted in her becoming more than a little vain), and generally had the ability to charm almost anyone around her. However, she was also something of a spoiled brat who was used to getting her way.

For reasons unknown to him, she had suddenly taken to visiting Errol somewhat regularly at the Station House. Ironically, while there had been a time in the not-so-distant past when he would have been over the moon with getting a mere glance from Talia, his taking on the role of Warden had matured him, and he saw clearly now that – while she wasn’t necessarily a bad person – she had a tendency to be petty and manipulative in order to get what she wanted.

On her part, Talia essentially had a small crush on Errol. Before his brother disappeared, he’d simply been a cute boy, but nobody she was deeply impressed with. Since then, however, taking on the duties of Warden had made her see him differently. In her eyes, Errol was probably the most eligible bachelor in Stanchion now – aside from maybe Chad Sterillo, the mayor’s son, whom she also had a crush on.

“Hi, Talia,” Errol said. Obviously word had gotten out – most likely via the Pierces – that he was back. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Unless you want me to go with you to see the troupe that just arrived in town.”

“Troupe?”

“Yes, a company of performers arrived yesterday. The mayor has allowed them to set up near the middle of town so everyone can have easy access to them.”

Errol groaned inwardly. Performing troupes usually came through Stanchion only once every few years. It was something that usually caused a great deal of excitement among the residents, who seldom saw anything more interesting than growing crops or the birth of livestock. In fact, the place would probably be flooded with visitors from nearby wards who were also starved for entertainment. For Errol, though, the presence of such a troupe meant additional work.

First of all, he’d have to meet with the troupe leader and lay out the ground rules. Such traveling bands were essentially nomadic, and their lifestyles and proclivities often conflicted with those of the towns they visited. He’d also need to inspect any games of chance or skill that they offered, making sure that the people of Stanchion were not cheated (or at least not unreasonably so).

Finally, the entertainers were quite likely to have a sideshow – a display of odd and unusual things, animals and people (often grotesqueries), including the occasional monster from the Badlands. Errol’s duties included an investigation of the things intended to be displayed (a large number of which were fakes) and making sure – especially in the case of monsters – that the proffered attraction was actually safe.

All of this went through Errol’s mind as he walked back to the Station House, Talia chattering non-stop beside him. Still, he barely heard a word she said as he walked up the porch and inside, although she followed closely in his wake.

“Anyway,” he said, choosing to cut her off when she paused to take a breath, “I appreciate you coming all the way out here to let me know about the troupe.”

“You still haven’t answered me,” she said, pouting a little.

“Huh?” Errol racked his brains, trying to think of what she might be talking about and wishing he’d paid a little more attention when she’d been speaking.

“Do you want to take me to see the troupe perform?”

“Uh…” Errol raised a hand to his forehead and gently massaged his temples. This was a complication he didn’t want to deal with right now – especially given his relationship with Gale. “I don’t think I’ll have time to take in the sights from the standpoint of a spectator. I’m likely to have my hands full keeping an eye on the performers the entire time they’re here.”

“So you’ll be around then.”

He shrugged. “I suppose
–
”

“Great! Then I’m sure I’ll see you there.” With that, she gave him an unexpected hug and a kiss on the cheek.

She still had her arms around his neck when a subtle cough sounded from the doorway. Errol glanced over, and saw the last person he wanted to observe him like this: Gale.

Tall and lovely, she stood there in the doorway, almost completely still in a flowery summer dress that highlighted her figure. In her hands, she held what appeared to be a freshly-baked pie. Her fiery red hair was done up, except for a curly strand that fell down either side of her face to her cheeks. Her features, always comely, were highlighted by a gentle touch of rouge. It had taken Errol awhile to realize it – mostly because he had previously considered her a temperamental shrew – but Gale Beverly was quite beautiful.

Errol quickly disengaged himself from Talia. Gale didn’t speak, but her cold blue eyes conveyed everything she felt about the situation. Talia, wilting under that stare, excused herself and gently squeezed by Gale (who still stood unnervingly still in the doorway) and left. The only movement by Gale came when she subtly cut her eyes to the side as Talia slipped by her, and then she turned her gaze back to Errol.

Neither said anything for a moment – Gale because she was clearly vexed, and Errol because he simply didn’t know what to say. Gale had been with him when he’d defeated the Wendigo, saved his life in fact, as he had saved hers during that same episode. Thus, they had a definite bond, but beyond that their relationship was complicated.

He had always considered her – like the other women in her family – an overbearing nag, and it was clear that she’d always found him to be an irresponsible ne’er-do-well. It had taken their adventure with the Wendigo for them to learn to see valuable qualities in each other. He now viewed her in a much different light than before, but in fulfilling his duties as Warden, he hadn’t had much time to devote to other pursuits.

Letting out an odd little sigh, Gale finally stepped inside. She walked over to the table where Errol took all his meals and set down the pie she was holding. The delicious smell of cinnamon wafted over to him, almost making his mouth water.

“It’s apple,” she said. “I know it’s one of your favorites, so I thought it would be a nice welcome-back present for you after a week in the Badlands.” She then turned and prepared to leave.

“It’s not what you think,” he said to her back, making her stop.

“Then what exactly is it?” she asked, turning to him.

“She was all excited about the troupe that’s come to town. She simply got in a tizzy about that and gave me a hug.”

“So she came all the way to the Warden Station just to give you a hug because some performers are in town?”

“She just showed up,” he said. “I didn’t expect her or invite her.”

“Just like me.”

“That’s different and you know it.”

“No, I
don’t
know. So tell me.”

As usual, when it came to discussing personal things between him and Gale, Errol was at a loss for words. When it became clear after a few moments that he wasn’t going to say anything, Gale went on.

“Well, since you don’t have anything to say on the matter,” she said, “let me tell you what
I
know.”

She began walking slowly towards him. “For three months now, Errol Magnus, I’ve done almost everything womanly possible to get your attention. I’ve done and scented my hair for you, baked you sweets, worn my prettiest dresses.”