The Ruins [Book 2] by T.W. Piperbrook

Author:T.W. Piperbrook [Piperbrook, T.W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Post Script Publishing
Published: 2017-03-15T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 41: Bray

Bray sat in the single room of a house that might've been a peasant's, had he been in Brighton, other than the rows of glass bottles and strange containers that lined the shelves all around the dwelling. Objects that looked like long, unraveled necklaces hung from the ceiling, with strange pieces of metal, or clay beads, wrapped around them. All were different sizes. Bray couldn't determine if they were decorations, or served a purpose. On one wall, he saw an axe, several bows and arrows, and some swords that looked heavily used, none of which were fashioned the same way. It looked as if they had been found in the forests, or taken from various people.

Looted, perhaps.

The man who had led Bray here—the leader of Halifax, assumedly—sat in a wooden chair on one side of a table, the only piece of furniture in the room, other than the chairs. His face was weathered from the sun, but he seemed in good shape, for someone his age.

"Where is Brighton?" the man asked Bray, in an accent that still surprised Bray by its clarity.

"A long ways from here," Bray said honestly.

"I heard some of what happened to you. I heard what the island girl tried to do."

"The people from The Arches took my friends, probably butchered them. They tried to kill me. The girl was sent to finish the job."

The man didn't seem surprised. "Their traditions of violence continue." He settled back in his chair, appraising Bray. "My name is Enoch. They call me The Bravest One."

"You speak the language clearly," Bray said.

"I have picked it up better than others, over the years," Enoch explained, his eyes dark and brooding.

"From the islanders?"

"Them, and other groups," Enoch said with a sigh that showed his years. "We have met many people in the wild. Perhaps even from the place you are from, though I admit I haven't heard the name Brighton."

"No one seems to have heard of it here," said Bray. "And I knew nothing of your people, or those who live in The Arches, before I came and they took us in."

"They took you in?"

"Yes. They took me in, along with a woman and a boy I was traveling with. I went for a hunt with them. When I returned, they tried to kill me. I'm not sure what happened to the others."

"You would have been better staying away." Hatred burned in Enoch's eyes. "They are cowards, and thieves, as well. They took our lands."

"Your lands?" Bray was confused.

Enoch took a moment to suck in a breath before continuing. "The people of The Arches stole those islands from us, long ago, in a time when our ancestors were alive. We had a different name for The Arches, back then." Enoch shook his head. "We called it The Blessed Land. Now those lands are defiled. The islanders use our crop fields, they inhabit our ancestors' homes; they degrade our memories. That is not the worst of it."

Bray furrowed his brow. Most of the past few days seemed like a lie he was unraveling.

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