Blue Valley Underground - Part 09 - Soldier
It's hard to find decent folk.
Blue Valley Underground - Part 9 - Soldier
Isaac spent the rest of the night in Newell's most expensive luxury hotel. He rented the finest room available, blowing over half of the money he took from the butcher. The staff questioned his cuts, bruises, and bloody clothes; but it suddenly didn't matter once the money was in their hands.
Entering his room, Isaac was greeted by an enormous double-bed, a bowl of fresh fruit, and a bubbling hot tub in front of a large window overlooking the city. Newell was so menacing from the streets. It looked beautiful from here, all its electric lights glowing like fallen stars, all its evil so distant.
The bathroom was almost as big as the main room. Isaac took a long, hot shower and let his filthy clothes soak in the tub afterwards. He found the brothel key in his pocket, placing it in his knapsack along with the butchery key. Cute little keepsakes from his horrifying adventure. He brushed his teeth with the baking soda and finally washed the taste of vomit from his mouth. Though the flavor was very familiar to Isaac, it was never welcome. Walking back into the main room naked, he was too exhausted to care about the giant window before him. He took the fruit bowl with him to the hot tub and went through two apples and a peach while he soaked his abused body.
Isaac stayed there for hours, briefly falling asleep a couple times. As he stared at the city below, he realized he would never be this comfortable again. This was it. The most luxury and freedom he'd ever have in his lifetime. After this, he'd just be another homeless soldier sharing a dingy room at the barracks with three other homeless soldiers, eating whatever the cooks had on hand and serving a queen he loathed. In the wee hours of the morning, Isaac finally curled up in the giant bed and fell asleep.
A cleaning woman knocked on the door ten hours later, as Isaac requested. Reluctantly rolling out of bed, he went to fetch his clothes drying in the bathroom. They were still damp and covered with bloodstains. He couldn't go out in public wearing that--the lawmen were probably investigating Mr. Callahan's shop by now. Isaac was torn between hoping the man was dead and praying he was alive. He didn't want to be responsible for a murder. Maybe that's why he was such a poor soldier, he thought.
Isaac threw his old clothes in the trash and searched every drawer in the room for something else to wear. He finally found a blue robe hanging in the closet. It wasn't his first choice, but it was less incriminating than blood-soaked clothes in the presence of a crime scene. If he hurried to a boutique, he wouldn't have to look like a mental patient for long.
There was a fine boutique and salon not far from the hotel. The bubbly salesclerk was more than happy to help Isaac try on new clothes. She stood a little too close, laughed a little too much, and touched him a little too often. Isaac couldn't tell if she genuinely liked him or was just trying to sell him more expensive things. Either way, it worked, and he found himself hemorrhaging coins for a fine black jacket, a long-sleeved white collared shirt, straight-leg olive pants and shiny black shoes. The woman even convinced him to let her style his hair and trim his sideburns, earning herself an extra tip.
Just as he began to look like a Newell citizen, it was time to leave. Isaac hurried to the train station and spent the last of his coins on a ticket to Rivermere. Paranoia was creeping up on him. He found a seat in the back of the train car, keeping his head down and trying to look inconspicuous like he hadn't murdered a guy and robbed his shop.
The last passengers found their seats. Finally the train began to move, and Isaac leaned his head against the cold window and closed his eyes. Last time he was on a train, he filled two puke bags and soiled Glen's boots. Glen never let him forget it. There were paper sacks attached to the seat in front of him, and he opened one just in case. Only a few hours of this, then the nightmare would end. He'd be back at the barracks doing familiar things with familiar people. And if he got booted from the military for this adventure, at least he'd be back in a familiar town.
Somehow, it would all work out. Nothing Evan could do to him would be worse than his time in Newell, Isaac thought. Even his time sleeping in the luxurious hotel bed was interrupted by nightmares; and he assumed they were the first of many to come.
"I'm bored!"
The quiet murmur of the passengers was interrupted by a child's whine. Isaac opened his eyes, startled slightly. There was a family of three sitting in front of him, a man, woman, and a young boy no older than six. The boy left his seat and jumped up and down in the aisle,
"I'm boooored!" he cried again.
"Sit down, Dear." Replied his mother. She was focused more on her knitting than her child, the father equally lost in a book. The boy crawled back into his seat and fidgeted,
"I'm hungry!"
His mother's eyes never left her project,
"You didn't eat your lunch, Harvey. Now you'll have to wait until we get to Auntie's."
"But I wanna eat now!"
The child's whining and mother's droning went back and forth for a few minutes, until Isaac remembered the fruit in his knapsack. He'd taken it from the hotel before he left, but motion sickness was sneaking up on him now and he didn't trust his stomach to keep it down.
"Stop the train, Mommy! I wanna eat!" Harvey pleaded.
"Do you want an apple?" Isaac offered, and held a green apple to the child. His parents finally broke their concentration and turned to him.
"Yeah!" The boy snatched the apple and quickly bit into it. His mother scolded him,
"Harvey! Mind your manners!" then turned to Isaac, "Thank you, Sir."
"Not a problem." Isaac turned back to the window. Outside, vast plains of dry summer grass and yellow flowers rolled out to the horizon. He was definitely far from the rocky forests of Rivermere.
After a while, Isaac realized Harvey had been turned around in his seat, staring at him for the last few minutes as he ate the apple. The child's massive blue eyes were wide and curious. Isaac accidentally made eye-contact, then the boy told him,
"My name is Harvey."
"Hello."
"We're going to see my auntie!"
Isaac leaned his head back on the window and replied,
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. She's dying."
"Harvey!" his mother whispered harshly.
"She is!" The boy insisted, and the woman just shook her head and returned to her knitting. Isaac frowned,
"I'm, uh...Sorry to hear that."
"Where are you going?" Harvey changed the subject with a mouth full of apple.
"I'm going home," replied Isaac, "Back to Rivermere."
Harvey tilted his head,
"Where's that?"
Isaac wished he knew.
"Far from here."
"Do you wanna come see my auntie? She lives at the Capital."
Isaac shook his head,
"I can't, I gotta go back to my barracks. I'm a soldier."
Harvey's near-invisible blonde eyebrows shot up,
"Really? Do you have a sword? Can I see it?"
"It's..." Isaac paused, "At home. Sorry."
"Aww..." The boy turned back around for a brief moment, then jolted up and asked,
"Hey! Can you make me a soldier too?"
"Maybe when you're older..."
"Will I get to kill people?"
Isaac was taken aback by the eagerness in the boy's face. It frightened him, really.
"Well," he explained, choosing his words carefully, "You would have to kill enemy soldiers sometimes. But no one wants to do that. A good soldier wants to help people."
"How do I do that?"
Isaac shrugged,
"If someone needs help, it's your job to help them. Even if they can't pay you or give anything back, you do it because it's the right thing to do. You have to keep your promises, and sometimes you have to risk your life for people."
Harvey thought about it for a moment, then replied,
"I can do that!"
Isaac grinned,
"Then you'll be a good soldier."
"Do I still get a sword?"
"Of course. Come to the Rivermere barracks when you're older and ask for Evan. He's a good man--he'll train you."
Harvey finished his apple and shoved the core in his mother's purse. He turned back to Isaac and asked,
"What's your name?"
"Isaac." The soldier extended a hand and the little boy shook it.
"Um, Isaac? Can we be friends?"
"Sure."
"When people are mean to me, you have to come beat them up. Okay?"
Isaac chuckled softly, "Kids used to pick on me too, you know."
"How did you make them stop?" Harvey leaned forward, gripping the back of his seat. Isaac paused, then frowned,
"I, uh...Didn't. Grownups have bullies too. I still get picked on sometimes."
Harvey balled his fists,
"Come tell me when they're mean to you and I'll beat them up!"
Isaac laughed,
"Okay."
Hours passed and the train rolled on through the Blue Valley. A sickening headache was festering in Isaac's skull. Despite his hunger, he didn't dare fill his stomach.
"It can't be long now," he told himself over and over, "I'll be home soon..."
He kept his eyes closed most of the time, even as Harvey spoke to him. Eventually the train stopped in Evangeline Capital. It was an ancient city made of enormous stone bricks, positioned beside the Bluerock Lake. Queen Evangeline's glimmering white and blue castle towered over everything else, visible from the train station and anywhere else in the city. It was always looming above its people, as glorious as it was ominous.
Isaac realized he was just walking distance from the person responsible for his deplorable border guard mission. He wanted nothing more than to march up to her castle and explain to her the misery her inane laws were causing to the goblins, the fauns, Dolly, her own soldiers and himself--Everyone but her. He looked up at the castle watchtowers. There were no less than ten archers standing atop of each. He'd look like a dead porcupine before he even reached the drawbridge. A trio of war dragons flew overhead, mounted by proud soldiers in gleaming, specialized dragon-master armor. Isaac was suddenly burning with envy.
Harvey's parents gathered their things and stood up as the doors opened.
"Bye, Isaac!" Harvey waved. Isaac waved back,
"Bye, Harvey. Be good."
Isaac watched the family disembark. He could see them through the window as they crossed the terminal. Suddenly Harvey's father stopped and grabbed his son's arm, then began striking him with the back of his hand. His mother stood in place, unflinching. Isaac's eyebrows shot up and he rose from his seat. His hands frantically searched the window and found there was no way to open it.
"Hey!" he shouted, startling the passengers around him, and pounded his palms on the glass. The trio didn't notice him, and were shortly out of sight.
The aisle was clotted with new passengers finding their seats. Isaac slowly sat down again and pulled his knapsack to his chest, fingering the buckle nervously. For a brief and terrible moment, he was back at the orphanage. He could almost feel Mrs. Barbary pummeling him and saw her wicked face clear as day.
"Filthy louse!" she'd crow, "Parasite! Dirty animal!"
Oh, how she hated little Isaac. Despite her tall stature and meaty frame, Mrs. Barbary was terrified of bugs, and Isaac's thick black hair was constantly infested with creepy white lice.
His scalp itched just thinking about it. Nervously raking his fingers through his hair, Isaac jumped when a young woman collapsed into the seat beside him.
"Hey," she said, sounding out of breath, "I can sit here, right?"
After a short hesitation, Isaac squished himself closer to the window,
"Sure."
"Thanks." She coughed a few times and leaned back, dropping her big purple handbag between her feet. Isaac tried not to stare, though she looked like she'd just a run a marathon. She wore a short pink sundress and a rosy button-up cardigan with sweatstains under the armpits. Her straight dark hair was pulled into a messy, doubled-up ponytail.
The young woman wasn't quiet for long. Just as Isaac closed his eyes, she tapped his shoulder and whispered in his ear,
"See those guys up there? With the wraps?"
The soldier searched until he spotted two men sitting a few seats ahead. They were wearing matching blue head wraps and coats.
"I think so." Replied Isaac. She continued,
"They've been stalking me all day. I'm trying to get to Greenhearst. Can you just...I dunno, protect me 'till I get there?"
With a proud sense of duty, Isaac sat up straight and nodded,
"Yes, Ma'am. I'm a soldier, after all."
"You are?" She raised her eyebrows, "Good. I thought you looked strong."
"What do they want from you?"
She sighed and shook her head,
"I don't know. I think they're trying to kidnap me or something. Can you blame them? Heh." She showed him a weary grin, then extended a hand,
"I'm Clara."
"Isaac of Rivermere. Nice to meet you, Clara." Isaac shook her hand. It was warm and sweaty.
The next few minutes were quiet as the train left the Capital Station. Isaac rested against the window once more. In just a few more hours, he'd find out if he was sleeping in the barracks tonight or out on the streets. It was the difference between being a free soul or a lost body.
"What's with the gag-bag?" the girl asked, pointing to the paper sack in his lap. Isaac opened his eyes but kept his head against the cool glass,
"Oh, uh...Sometimes I get sick on the train."
Clara scrunched her flat nose,
"You're not gonna puke on me, right?"
"That's what the bag's for." The soldier held up the sack, though last time he still managed to miss the bag and soil Glen's boots on the Rockreach mission. It was not his proudest moment.
Clara nodded as she coughed into her arm. She paused before asking,
"So where are you headed, Soldier Boy?"
"The barracks in Rivermere. It's been a weird week..."
"Oh yeah?" Clara folded her hands and listened while he told his story. Isaac closed his eyes and told her all about his mission, about getting tricked by a nymph and waking up on the other side of Noalen, staying with the Stillwaters, getting drugged, violated, and robbed by a brothel wench, and about how he was nearly chopped to bits by a psychotic butcher.
"...I used the butcher's money to buy a room at a really fancy hotel. It was like a palace; there was a hot tub and the bed felt like silk. The next day I caught the train, and now I'm here." Isaac finished his tale. It was nothing but the truth, as he was far too exhausted to make up some heroic lie. It felt good just to get the events off his chest, even if he was dumping them on some random stranger on the train.
"Wow, Isaac." Clara smiled, "That's a good story. You should write books!"
The soldier sighed,
"I hardly believe any of it myself. I feel like I'm in a crazy nightmare and I can't wake up."
Clara nodded,
"Life's like that sometimes."
Isaac twitched as she patted his leg. Feeling foolish, he asked quickly,
"So what's in--uh, Greenhearst?"
Silent for a moment, the girl tilted her head and shrugged,
"Lots of stuff. Work, for one. Can't find a decent job in the Capital unless you're working in the castle. They'd never take me. I'm so dumb, I didn't even make it through primary school."
"Really?" A tiny smile was tugging at Isaac's mouth, "I never went to school."
For once in his life, he said those words with no shame. Clara didn't shoot him a weird look or laugh at him. She just replied flatly,
"Nobody needs it. You learn everything worth knowing on the streets. Math won't help you when some asshole's got a belt around your neck."
"Or when a butcher locks you in a freezer and tries to kill you." Isaac added. Clara grinned,
"I hate when that happens."