The Beacon: The Corner (3)
Episode 12: "Frontier Town"
The Corner had been aptly, if not creatively, named. It sat on a flat spot just off the center of a high, wide valley where the Coastal Range met the Spruce Hills, a junction that, to the eye, looked to be a right angle. Conifers thickly covered both the nearby hills and mountains, although the valley itself boasted only a handful of small copses, likely remnants of the residents’ land-clearing efforts. Its grassy sides were patches of yellows and browns between ordered rows of maize and various vegetable crops growing on several small farms that dotted the valley. Just to the town’s north ran a swift mountain stream that wended its way down the gentle slope eastward onto the plain.
When Adon first sighted the town on their fourth day out of Bridgeton, it had been mid-afternoon, and more than a half-hour later, they still had a way to go to reach it. He and his crew were all saddle- or wagon-weary, having set out just after sunup from the West Road. With its up-and-down and meandering nature, the rutted, rocky road—if it even deserved such a respectable name—had made it a much longer final day of their trip than they had foreseen.
It took them another half-hour to enter the town’s main and only street. Adon counted about twenty wooden buildings, the majority facing each other across the dusty street. As they rode in, the largest of the buildings drew their eyes. From his experience, Adon assumed it to be a combined place of worship, school, and meeting hall. At its front, the street ended in an expansive roundabout where a trio of sweating workmen installed small, regular blocks of stone onto a prepared surface. On the left, a sign reading “City Hall” graced the gable of a smaller, whitewashed building with a large porch. Opposite it on the right rose a sprawling two-story, stone-faced edifice identified as “The Corner Inn.”
Without hesitation, Adon and his crew headed toward the latter, ignoring a tavern, a general store, a farmer’s market, a tailor’s shop, a small livery, and a few homes, among others. Upon reaching it, Adon dismounted gingerly and stretched sore muscles. Seconds later, a balding man wearing dark pants and a white shirt, clearly the inn’s proprietor, rushed out onto its veranda, wiping his hands on a towel and smiling.
“Welcome to The Corner!” he called cheerfully, hands braced on the veranda’s balustrade. “We get few visitors out here—the hind end of nowhere, as we say—so we’re delighted to have some company! Come on in! I’ll rouse my sons to park your wagons and care for your horses. By the way, I am Jak Stennis, and I own the place. Come on in, have a cool drink, and rest your weary bones! I know how tough that road in is!”
“Thank you, sir!” Adon said, a little overwhelmed. He walked forward to shake the man’s hand. “I’m Adonis Santinetta, and these are my crew. A cool drink sounds wonderful.”
Grabbing their bags, they mounted the steps and crossed the veranda, noting rocking chairs, cafe tables, and a padded swing. Expecting to see rough construction with some rustic charm, what met their eyes upon entering was no frontier inn. They stepped onto a plush, dark-blue wool carpet, on which sat a couple of overstuffed couches and a few low tables against highly polished paneled walls. A waist-high reception desk made of a dark, lacquered wood stood near the back. Through a doorway to their right, they spied an inviting, well-lit dining hall containing a quintet of pressed linen-draped tables with matching chairs and a long sideboard.
Adon laughed. “This is a surprise, Mister Stennis! I would expect such luxury on the Second Level in Palisade, but not here on the wild border! You must explain this wonder.”
The proprietor bowed in acquiescence. “Well, more than a decade ago, I managed a small inn in Kingsport, but I always wanted to own one. But my wife and I also wanted to leave the city to raise our family. So, I saved my money, keeping my dreams alive. But what do you know? At just the right time, my wife came into a sizable inheritance from an aged aunt who had married well. Quite well!” He grinned. “My brother lives nearby, so we moved here, built our inn to the highest standards, bought high-quality furniture, and regretted nary a penny we spent!”
“I’d say your secret hasn’t gotten out,” Artema said, looking around. “Do you have many visitors?”
“No, not like in the cities,” Jak Stennis said indifferently. “But, Duke Mortimor comes here to get away and hunt our hills several times during the year, and he always brings a few friends. His visits alone keep my books balanced, I’m happy to say!”
Unbidden, an aproned woman, short and slightly rotund with salt-and-pepper hair in a bun, entered the room bearing a tray of glasses and a pitcher of cold cider. Placing the tray on the long desk, she began pouring their refreshment.
“This is my wife, Sannah,” her husband said in introduction. “Sannah, this gentleman is Adonis Santinetta.” They said their hellos, and Adon introduced the members of his crew.
Sannah handed Adon a glass. “Santinetta,” she repeated his name as if trying to remember something. “Aren’t there Santinetta ships that come from Satele?”
“Yes,” Adon answered with a small smile and a nod. “Another branch of the family runs the shipping business. I myself captained one of their vessels once upon a time. These days, I and my family live in Palisade, assisting the palace however we can.”
“I take it, then,” Jak said, scratching a sideburn, “you’re here on the king’s business?”
“Yes,” Adon replied, sipping his cider. “We’re here to follow up on a report the mayor sent to Palisade. We have been tasked to verify a few details.”
“I would bet it’s about that weird rolling wave thing,” Sannah said, looking at her husband before turning back to Adon. “I’ve never seen anything like it! You could see it moving toward you, and it looked like it would sweep you up like a sea wave. But when it passed through you, you felt nothing! It just continued into the mountains and into Haimar, I assume.” She shuddered. “Strange!”
Mast chuckled, speaking from the comfort of one of the couches. “Well, madam, your report sounds much like the one the mayor sent the king. Maybe our work here is already done.”
“There’s really nothing more to say about it,” she said, shrugging. “As I said, it passed through, but nothing else happened.”
“It caused a fright, sure enough,” Jak said, shaking his head. “People ran to the mayor’s office to tell their stories, but it turned out to be pretty much a bust. Any fear vanished when nobody turned up hurt.”
“So, no one acted strangely during the incident?” Bandrick asked.
“What do you mean?” Jak asked, crossing his arms.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Bandrick said, thinking. “Did anyone break any laws while it happened or do something crazy or out of character?”
“Not that I’m aware,” the innkeeper said slowly, and his wife shook her head in agreement. “This is such a peaceful town, we don’t even have a sheriff. The mayor takes care of any fines or punishments if someone does something illegal.”
Adon sighed deeply, handing his empty glass to Sannah. “Thank you. So far, it sounds as if the mayor’s report was accurate. We’ll still have to talk to the mayor, of course, and some townspeople, too, just to be thorough, but it seems like this trip may have been a waste of time.”
“Oh!” Jak said, eyes widening in a horror only an innkeeper could feel. “Don’t look at it that way! You’re here on the edge of civilization, so you might as well enjoy it! We have four empty rooms upstairs with soft beds, hot baths, and some fine food prepared by my bride of twenty-three years and the best cook in Kingsport and now in The Corner! My daughters will wash and mend your clothes, and my boys will treat your horses like cherished pets! Take a day or two to relax before you return to Palisade. You won’t regret it!”
Each room had indeed been fit for a duke, the hot bath relaxing, the dinner memorable, and the beds soft. After a few glasses of wine with dinner, they had retired to their beds early, exhausted. The following morning, they woke late. With a good night’s sleep behind them, they descended the stairs to discover the sideboard loaded with eggs, bacon, sausage, cheese, bread, pastries, and fruit, with tea, juice, and milk to drink. Afterward, Adon considered that, despite his protestations to the contrary, he might be developing a paunch—or at least he was giving one a good start.
Dividing the town among them, they went door to door, asking whoever answered to describe his or her experience with the strange wave phenomenon. Everyone was eager to retell the story to the king’s agents, although, in the end, there was not much to tell. All that changed was the level of fear each person had exhibited as the wave approached and “passed through like a slow, visible, roiling wind,” as the soft-spoken tailor put it. When asked what they thought it might be, most shrugged, saying some equivalent of “Beats me if I know!”
Adon called on the clergyman and the schoolmistress, whom he discovered were husband and wife. The afternoon of the event, the hubbub in the town had alerted them that something was happening, and they had gone out to investigate. Watching the wave’s approach from the community building’s steps, they had noted that some screamed or shouted as it came upon them but immediately expressed relief that the wave had been benign. Once it rolled over them, they had reacted similarly. “Praise the Shepherd!” the clergyman said. When Adon asked what they imagined it was, the husband said, “Only the Lord knows,” while his wife opined, “The learned scholars of the Royal College would be the only ones qualified to answer your question.”
Thanking them for their time, Adon walked across the way to The Corner’s town hall. It sat slightly removed from the other buildings on its side of the street. Probably in hopes of future growth, Adon thought with a mental smile. It will be many years—maybe generations—before they need a bigger government building. Maybe never.
He trotted up the steps and entered the open door, removing his hat and smoothing his hair. No one was about, but he noticed at the foyer’s rear a door stenciled with the words “Mayor Benhale Dolphus.” Rapping lightly on it, Adon heard a man’s voice say, “Come on in!”
An enormous bear of a man rose to greet him, extending a meaty hand and flashing a friendly smile. Mayor Dolphus stood at least six or eight inches taller than Adon and likely outweighed him by more than a hundred pounds. His wavy hair was as dark as a black walnut, and he wore a matching curly beard. With the man’s sleeves rolled up, Adon could see heavily muscled and hairy arms. “Welcome to The Corner, stranger!” the mayor boomed in a deep bass voice.
“I’m Adonis Santinetta from Palisade,” Adon said, looking up at him as he shook the man’s massive hand enveloping his own. Handing the mayor his royal warrant, he continued, “The king sent me to investigate the wave phenomenon that rolled through here almost a month ago.”
“A king’s man!” Mayor Dolphus said with a smirk. “I think this is the first time an official from Palisade has visited our fair little town!”
“The town has been very welcoming,” Adon said. “We expected nothing like we’ve experienced.”
“Ah,” the mayor said with a knowing look. He motioned Adon to a chair in front of the desk. “You mean Stennis’ place. A fine inn and tasty food! He and his family are good people despite coming from Kingsport!” He roared at his joke, slapping the desk. When he finished laughing, he leaned back in his chair, which creaked warningly, and asked, “What more does the king need to know about that strange wave? I believe I summarized what the people had to say in my report. I certainly left nothing important out.”
“Undoubtedly,” Adon said. “So far, no one has told me anything new or contrary. The king sent us here because these strange waves have rolled across Margonne for about six weeks now. We have received dozens of reports from towns from all over the kingdom, and yours was . . . unique.”
“Really?” Mayor Dolphus said with unfeigned surprise, sitting forward. “I wrote no falsehoods in my report.”
“I’m not accusing you of any,” Adon said flatly. “Nor does the king doubt your story. Not in the least. But someone had to investigate when your report said the wave benignly rolled through the town without affecting the people. Everywhere else, when these unholy waves pass through, people lose all restraint and do all kinds of evil. They have caused several deaths across the Kingdom.”
The mayor’s face fell. “This is shocking, Mister Santinetta! I cannot imagine what would have happened if that had happened here. I shudder to think about what damage I could have done.” He looked at his huge, powerful hands as if he distrusted them.
“You and your town avoided a potential disaster,” Adon agreed. “And the king wants to know how. He sent me out here to discover your secret so he could apply it elsewhere. I fear there will be no secret to take back to him.”
“Did I hear something about secrets?” a woman’s voice asked. A tall, lithe woman with long blonde hair in a braided ponytail stepped into the office carrying two tall glasses of cool water, which she set before the men. She wore a simple azure dress with a broad white belt around her slim waist.
“Mister Santinetta,” the mayor said, his face beaming with pride, “this is my wife, Betula. My dear, this is a king’s man, Adonis Santinetta. Our august monarch sent him here to investigate that strange wave.” He summarized their conversation for her.
“We have heard no news of these events until now,” Betula said, her eyes downcast. “I am sorry for the poor people who suffered from those evil waves. Imagine having no control at all!”
“Well,” Adon said, rising from his chair, “it seems we won’t figure out what makes this place so different. To be honest, we never had much hope we’d find the answer.”
“I’m sorry you came all this way to find out nothing,” Betula said with a comforting smile, “but at least you escaped Palisade and experienced our little mountain town.”
“Indeed,” Adon said, returning her smile. “Thank you for your time—and the water.” He put on his hat and stepped away.
Before he reached the street, the mayor’s wife called to him, trotting to stand with him on the porch. “It just occurred to me that a brother and sister live down the valley. You may want to talk to them as you leave. The wave must’ve passed over their land, too. Perhaps they know something we don’t.”
“It’s worth a try, I suppose,” Adon said, shrugging. “Thanks.”
A note:
At that time in The Corner, three factors came together to allow the little mountain town to thrive: Duke Mortimor, an avid and outspoken outdoorsman and hunter; Benhale Dolphus, mayor and unrivaled wild-game tracker; and Jak Stennis, who never stinted on providing the very best accommodations, food, and service to his customers. Once his peers heard the duke’s rapturous stories of his hunting experiences in the nearby mountains, The Corner became a mecca for hunters and adventurers from not just Margonne but also Aertella, Angeva, Satele, and Neva. In a few years, Mayor Dolphus had so much work leading hunting parties into the surrounding wild lands that he resigned his post (filled, by the townspeople’s common consent, by his more-than-competent wife, Betula). Autumn through spring, The Corner Inn’s rooms were booked solid for years in advance, forcing its proprietor to invest in another wing of six rooms to maximize his opportunity. In time, no one in Margonne considered The Corner an out-of-the-way frontier town.
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