Pagewalker (9 page)

“This my friend is Northland!” he answered,
stopping his argument and turning to face me again. ”Yes, yes
Northland” he continued. It seemed very obvious now that I was
talking to two people. Or two separate personalities. Just my luck
really, the first person I meet here is either incredibly drunk or
just full on crazy. The man continued “Indeed it is, I am guessing
that you are from far far away, not from these shores anyway?”

“Well of course he isn’t, he just said he was
shipwrecked!”

“Oh yes true, ok well let me be the first
person to welcome you to Nor.”

“No I want to be the first, you can be the
second.”

“Too late I have already started, Welcome to
nor….”.

“Aw for the name of Paddy Reilly, would you
just shut your mouth!”

“Who’s mouth?”

“Our mouth you prick. Let me speak for both
of us”.

“Ok, on ye go”.

“Let US welcome you to Northland!” The man
bowed. He had moved to my side now. I could see clearly the large
woven shawl he wore. Like a poncho really. There were leaves and
twigs woven into the material. Most likely used to fix rips and
tears. The garment he wore covered him from head to toe. He wore a
large round straw hat that drooped down at the sides from the
weight of rainwater and general over use.

Tessa had got to her feet shortly before and
had been standing in front of me guarding me from this stranger.
Her courage plucked up a bit as he bowed. She crept closer to him
slowly and close to the ground as collies do when preparing to herd
sheep. She sniffed around his feet and his outstretched hand. And
proceeded to lick him. I trusted Tessa’s judgement.

The man extended his hand out to me to offer
me a hand to my feet. I accepted and he pulled me up. My clothes
had dried slightly in the afternoon sun. He lifted and passed me my
things that were drying on the stones.

“What’s your name traveller?” he asked. I
brushed the dry dirt from my backside. My hands had that awful sand
paper feel to them. I composed myself before mockingly, yet proudly
proclaiming with one hand on my chest, tucked into my invisible
waistcoat. “Christopher Garry Mahood, this is Tessa, my bodyguard”
I said jokingly. “And you are?”

The man removed his hat and bowed again, “My
name, young sir, is Oisin.” He was twitching his head to the left
with a tick, like he had water trapped in his ear after a dive. His
look on his face was one of ill temperament, like the water would
not dislodge or drain from his head no matter how hard he
ticked.

“Well Oisin it is very nice to meet you. Do
you reside around here? Or where do you call your home?”

“No, nowhere I call home at the moment. I
have just left my past dwelling place not but a few days past. I
resided in those walls for many years but the sun shines on my face
and I am a free man!” His face twitched as though he had a sudden
bad, sour taste in his mouth. “Sorry WE are free men” he said with
a sigh.

“Oh ok, Sorry to hear you lost your home
Oisin” I said nervously.

“Oh not to worry, I was looking forward to
escaping that place from the moment I entered it.” He had a
concerned and dark look on his face for just a moment before the
smile returned to his wrinkled and freshly shaven face.

“Now I am to travel, amend my ways and see
the rest of Northland for the true gem that it is. I would offer
you company as I walked but I have become accustomed to solitude
and enjoy my own company these days. Let me at least point you in a
direction to aid you!”

“Oh yes” I replied “um, but I don’t suppose
you have seen a woman, long blonde hair, stands about 5, 11?! I
gestured her height, “She is stunningly beautiful. You would
definitely notice her. She has a piercing on her lip and eyes that
could bring kingdoms to their knees?” HE shook his head
disappointed he could not help.

“Well what about a little man anywhere? Goes
by the name Abe. Stands only a few feet tall?” I gestured his
height and wondered as to the mocking pursed lips the man had in
front of me. “He is a friend of mine and we have business here
together in Northland.” I said.

The man’s face turned from looking like he
was awaiting the punchline of a joke to looking annoyed and
disgusted with me.

“Are you toying with me boy? Is this a sick
joke or a game for you? Teasing Oisin with more tales of
Luchorpán?”

“With what?” I said, confused.

“Agh, to hell with you. You folk from Renir
are all the same. Find yourselves so funny. Hours of laughter at
the expense of Oisin and his wrong turn? Very funny. Now why don’t
you turn around, follow that dirty path through that God forsaken
forest and scurry back into the pit of a city once more. I….we have
urgent business and scores to settle any way!” He began muttering
to himself again. Looking up and down, from left to right, seeming
to be conversing and arguing with himself. Every now and then he
would stop in his rant and stare at me with a look of disbelief,
then continue on arguing. “It’s all a test you know? All a test. In
Northland it’s always a test! You find yours! This may be mine! All
a bloody test!” He shouted and continued muttering once more. From
among the ramblings he turned to me once more, stretched out and
grabbed my shoulder. Gazing square into my eyes, pulling himself
closer and me to him, our noses almost touching, he whispered, “She
is ok you know, for now” then pushed me back, causing me to trip
back and fall on my backside once more. At that, he turned on his
heels, shooed me away from him and began to power walk in the
opposite direction.

I was speechless and flabbergasted. I had no
words to say. I spluttered out apologies but he was gone before I
could not make any sense. Why was he so annoyed? I had only asked
him if he had seen Abe. Then it hit me. Those words.

“WHAT THE HELL?” I screamed at him. He was
bounding down the path at speed. “WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN YOU
FUCKIN CRACKPOT?” My voice croaked as I spat the last few word out.
I scrambled my things together. Put my soggy boots back on my feet
and ran with a squelch towards the road he had bounded down. He was
gone already. No trace. No sign. My heart sank, only for a moment.
Against my leg brushed a thick black coat of fur. Tessa manoeuvred
her head to under my fist. I opened my hand and stroked her between
her ears.

“Come on Tessa, at least we have directions
to Renir. If we follow this path we can see it! It’s so exciting
isn’t it? Actually going to Renir. I can’t believe it! It’s so
crazy! Maybe we can get some food on the way? There is bound to be
an inn of some sort right?” Tessa looked up at me as she walked at
my side. That was one of her key words.

I always believe positivity begins with an
outlook. I didn’t want to let myself get worried or scared. The
strange thing is however, those words, they seemed honest. Like a
word from God or an angel. I cannot explain it to you. I just knew
in that moment, Sarah was safe. Like how you just know something is
wrong before someone even tells you what it is? Well, basically the
opposite of that.

“Walk Tessa?” Just the mention of that always
set her off. Her tongue hanging out to the left side of her mouth,
flapping in the wind as she ran and her eyes filled with excitement
we made our way downhill towards the forest in front of us. The
trees were so fascinating, they were so close together, bending and
weaving together as if in conversation and embracing one another,
whispering quietly among themselves. The birdsong was prettier and
more melodic than any I had heard before it was so clear but seemed
to come from so far in the distance, the air was so thin and light,
slivers of light danced down through the branches creating a musty
glow.

We walked through and along the forest floor,
leaves covered the path but the road was so heavy trodden, there
were defined corners and a very linear path. No deviation was made
from this road, why would you I thought. The walk was so enjoyable.
I forgot then, and did many times since, that this was a world of
my creating. I felt as though I was on a holiday somewhere I had
always wanted to go. Like the first time Sarah and I walked the
streets of Disney in Florida or when we crossed the bridge in
London towards the Houses of Parliament. The surreal but familiar
glow in my heart. We walked together for what must have been two or
three hours. As the edge of the tree line was in sight, breaking
through the foliage, we could see buildings, walls, bell towers, a
large keep in the middle and as we made it closer to the edge of
the forest we could see the large gates. I knew this place. It was
a city I had created while drawing the map of Northland but I had
never written it into Dertrid’s Deed. This was uncharted! The
excitement was too much for me to contain. I wanted to meet the
people of Renir and hear the stories, visit the city, learn the
history. This was a true adventure like no one has known before. My
clothes had dried from my walk and I zipped my hoodie up covering
my t-shirt. The city was still a long walk. Ahead of us. Closer was
an inn. Named the Rebels’ Rest Inn. I could only assume it was
referring to the rebellion led by Detrid, Keldon, Elissa, and
Penla. Characters from my story.

The Rebel’s rest looked like a quality establishment.
It was a stone building that was on the road to Renir. The front
was painted green and a large mural was painted on the side of the
building we were walking towards. It depicted a half open door with
guards standing on either side of it and a small hand reaching out
from behind the door to pickpocket one of the guards. There were
tables and benches outside. People sat on barrels and drank from
iron and wooden tankards. There was a real bustle outside. As we
drew closer, we could hear the sounds of merriment coming from
inside the inn. Songs being sung, music being played not far from
the sounds heard in Belfast on a mid-week evening. Traditional
music at its finest. I remember thinking this would be the perfect
place to ask questions about Sarah. Surely someone would have seen
her here.

When we reached the inn we were greeted by
the biggest and bustiest bar maid I had ever seen. Full of
personality, charisma and curves.

“Oooooh a traveller I’ve not seen before!
What brings you to the rebels rest then eh? Got yourself in
trouble? Or looking to do just that?” She winked.

“A bit of both to be honest with you!” I said
as we entered through the doors. The music and chatter was almost
deafening inside. Everyone shouting over each other to be
heard.

“What was that?” she shouted back.

“BOTH!” I replied. I had wrapped my shirt
into a collar to keep Tessa close. The noise, hustle and bustle was
making her uneasy and she tucked close to my legs. As we got to the
bar the maid gestured to the three taps in front of her a red,
black and blue handle on each.

“Beer, stout or ale love?”

“I need to ask you something!” Her face
turned to the side, to point her ear towards me.

“I said, I need to ask you something!” I
shouted louder. Still she could not make out what I was saying over
the hustle and bustle of the establishment.

“What are you having?!” she shouted back at
me. It was hopeless, I would never get any sense here now.

“Pint of the black stuff!” I shouted,
pointing at the black handle. I know I was in a rush to find Sarah
but no one is going to talk for free!

She poured a lovely pint with a beautiful
head into a metal tankard. In true style she filled it two thirds
of the way, letting the head settle and allowing the beer to
settle. I pivoted on my heels to rest my elbows on the bar. Taking
in all my surroundings. It’s something most people do the first
time in a new bar. Order the drink, nod to those on either side of
you, turn with your back to the bar as the drink is poured and then
you assess what is around you. Scouting out the place, looking for
spare seats, people you may know, people you may
want
to
know, Checking for the toilets and the exits all that. Looking back
now I don’t know why I was so shocked, Northland is a place where
wonders come, and often the seemingly impossible is very logical.
While looking around the bar I noticed all the notable
characteristics, fireplace, wooden tables, cosy nooks and crannies,
snugs and booths. The memorabilia and oddities behind the bar to
look at and start conversations over. The kind of oddities that
have been discussed many times before and everyone had a story
involving them somehow. The kind of story that usually starts with
“See that thing there? Well, my friend’s next door neighbour told
me that…” There was one thing that took me at be surprise
however.

Looking around at the people in the bar,
scattered around from table to table and group to group, like
obvious lumps in mashed potato, were people with faces of animals!
It’s strange how such major things such as that come second to
busty barmaids and alcohol! I asked myself how could I have walked
from the doorway to the bar and not have noticed the three men with
wolves’ heads standing two arm lengths down from me. Or the large
bear that stood by the door, there was a group of four men smoking
by the fireplace, the one poking the coal had the face of an eagle,
his beak clamped down on a short pipe. How he saw through the smog
I did not know but everyone was engaged in conversation and
merriment. No one blinked an eyelid, or two. I made eye contact
with a fox by the stairs, not the way I would have described it to
my mates after a late Saturday session but an actual fox. Wearing
what looked like a uniform and with a bag full of papers bursting
from its seams. He, or she, I couldn’t tell, dossed its cap in my
direction and made its way on towards the exit. I turned to ask the
barmaid about twenty questions at once but was interrupted by the
vision of the most beautiful black pint with a creamy white head
dripping down the side. The world seemed to disappear into oblivion
as my eyes followed the slow, thick drip down the side of the
tankard. My eyes focused on it closer and closer, but that may have
just been my face getting closer and closer until I snapped out of
my daze, most likely when my nose touched the cold metal of the
tankard. I snapped back to reality with a universally recognised
phrase, the phrase that bring every transaction to its next
stage.