It had been over a week since they left their homes in Terix. As soon as the storm broke and the roads cleared to a manageable level, Raestin decided to make a visit to Quillim to see the woman who so captivated him. He made a brief stop at a friend’s home in Wardean and now was on the road making his way through the forested hills a few hours south of the woman he loved.
Being away from her so long had been almost more than he could bear. And as soon as he felt the time was right, he would propose. But for them to marry so soon after meeting would be deemed improper to some. So in difference to her reputation and society’s conventions, he must wait.
Beside him on a pale chestnut stallion rode Paul, the ‘Captain’ of his guards. Or so he liked to think of himself. He had been protecting Raestin’s caravans since Raestin was but a green trader. Now, fifteen years later, they had a friendship that was much more than that of employer and hired guard.
As they rode through the wintry countryside, signs of the coming of spring were everywhere and Paul knew what was on his friend’s mind. “Conventions be damned,” he said for the hundredth time. “Ask her to marry when we arrive.” When Raestin glanced toward him, Paul added, “You two love each other. It’s been months since you first began courting her. You’re getting too old to be playing these foolish games.”
“I know,” the trader replied. Then what Paul had said actually registered. “Old?” Glancing sidelong to his friend, he saw him break into a grin. “But I could no more rush our union than the blossoming of a budding rose.” He heard his friend sigh in resignation. This wasn’t the first time they had discussed his and Kaitlyn Borenson’s future life together. “All I can say is, we’ll see when we get there.” In truth, this waiting was beginning to wear on him. If she gave even the slightest indication, he would propose on the spot and as Paul said, conventions be damned!
Riding behind the pair were another half dozen guards. Some had been with Raestin almost as long as Paul. These were the men he refused to cut loose during the winter months while his caravan wintered. Each had families and desperately needed the coins he paid them. To be cut loose until spring would bring them undue hardship, and that was something he simply couldn’t allow. He knew their wives and children almost as well as he knew his own. Besides, he had the coins to spare and knew they wouldn’t take charity. They were proud men.
“Riders to the south,” Kern, a five foot six inch guard with neatly trimmed dark brown hair announced from the rear. He was a five year veteran with Raestin and good in a fight. A fact he has proven on more than one occasion.
Two riders were gradually overtaking them. From the looks of them, they were a seedy pair.
“Trouble do you think?” asked Paul.
“I wish,” replied Sterret in a bored tone. All six foot five inches spoke the warrior. Why he never joined the Guild was something he hadn’t ever felt the need to share with the others. Raestin wondered at times why he was happy being just a caravan guard when there was so much more he could experience. But as he was honest and one who Raestin could trust with his life, Raestin never pursued the matter.
Raestin kept them at their present pace, all the while the riders continued to draw closer. When they finally came abreast and began to pass, Raestin nodded to them and said, “Good day to you.”
One man, who was missing part of his left ear and had the look of one whom never smiled, glanced toward him but didn’t return the salutation.
“On your way to Quillim?” asked Paul in a friendly manner.
The riders came to an abrupt halt and took a good look at the eight riders. “Are you traveling to Quillim too?” asked the man with the partial ear. Beside him, his companion who was a great deal shorter had his hand on the hilt of his sword and looked for all the world like he was about to attack. Whatever response Paul had expected, it wasn’t this.
Paul locked eyes with Half-ear and said, “Yes.” Behind him, Raestin’s other guards placed their hands on the hilt of their swords. All of them were confused as to the reaction of the men. Sterret edged his horse closer to the two men. If there was fighting to be done, he wanted to be first in line.
Half-ear squinted his eyes and came close to having an almost feral look. “You ain’t gonna beat us to it!” he screamed. Then he and his companion kicked their horses and bolted down the road.
Raestin and his guards sat on their horses in stupefied shock by the man’s exclamation. “What was that all about?” asked Paul as he watched the two men quickly disappearing down the road.
Shaking his head, Raestin replied, “I don’t know.” Then nudging his horse in the sides, they resumed their progress to Quillim.
An hour later, their road was joined by a river emerging from the hills to the east. There the river turned to follow a more northerly route as it ran alongside the road.
It wasn’t far now. Soon the bridge crossing over the river toward Quillim should be coming into sight. Raestin started thinking about Kaitlyn, pretty much as he had every day since their first meeting. The way her hair caught the sunlight, the slight crinkle at the corners of her eyes when she smiled, every memory firmly etched into the halls of his mind.
“Something up ahead,” announced Paul, breaking him out of his reverie. Focusing on the here and now, Raestin saw a lone horse atop the crest of the next hill. It stood there motionless, its head turned away from them, almost as if it was looking further up the road.
“It’s just a horse,” observed, Cailin. The youngest and newest recruit, he was still a bit green about the ears. The only reason Raestin hadn’t cut him loose with the others for the winter, was Paul’s insistence that he remain. Seems he has a child on the way with only his wife’s aged mother to help out. Five foot four with fiery red hair, he was decent with a crossbow. His swordplay on the other hand was decidedly worse. Despite Paul’s continued drills and coaching, his sword was better left in its scabbard should trouble develop.
“Maybe,” replied Paul as he brought them to a stop. “It might be best if I check this out first,” he said to Raestin. When he received a nod from the trader, he said, “Cailin,” and indicated for the young guard to come with him. Then he nudged his horse forward and proceeded toward the horse. Cailin hurried to catch up.
“Do you really think this is trouble?” Cailin asked. The horse on the hill still hadn’t turned to look their way.
“It doesn’t feel right,” replied Paul. “After a while, you get a sense for such things.”
As he rode at Paul’s side, Cailin scanned the horizon for any sign of trouble. His crossbow remained slung across his back, easily accessible should the need arise. They were almost halfway to the crest in the hill where the horse stood when Cailin’s horse snorted. Turning its head in their direction, the horse atop the rise shied away a foot or two before coming to a stop.
“It’s skittish,” observed Cailin. Beside him, Paul nodded.
Looking first toward the area adjacent to the river, Paul quickly took in his surroundings. Except for the horse, everything appeared as it should. “Get your crossbow ready,” he said quietly.
Quickly removing it from behind his back, Cailin cranked the handle until the wire clicked into position. Then he removed a bolt from the quiver that was secured to the saddle’s pommel and loaded it. “Ready,” he said. Again, Paul only nodded.
Slow but steady they made their way toward the horse before them. A couple times the horse made to flee, but always returned to the same spot. When Paul was within half a dozen yards, he saw the body lying on the road. Two arrows were sticking from the man’s back.
“Bandits!” Cailin exclaimed.
“Possibly,” said Paul, though his tone said he didn’t believe it. “Why didn’t they take the horse?”
“Because…” began Cailin before stopping. “I don’t know.”
“Exactly,” replied Paul. He then glanced to his young protege. “Keep alert,” he said, “just as I taught you.”
Cailin nodded and placed the butt of the crossbow against his shoulder. Though he held it loosely, he could raise it and fire in no time.
Paul moved forward, continuously scanning the hills to either side as he did. Ten feet beyond the first dead man was another. He too had been killed by an arrow. The deadly missile had taken him through the neck. Of this man’s horse, there was no sign.
When he reached the man to whom the horse had been staying near, he noticed the man only had half an ear. “It’s the two riders who passed us earlier,” he told Cailin.
“Who attacked them?” Cailin asked.
“I don’t know,” replied Paul. “They could still be in the area.” Scanning the area yet again, he didn’t see any sign of those who had done this. Swinging down from the saddle, he went over to Half-ear and knelt beside him. Checking the man’s belt pouch, he found half a dozen copper coins, two silvers, and a small gem that wouldn’t fetch very much. Leaving the coins and gem in the pouch, he stood up and glanced around the horizon again.
“It wasn’t thieves that killed them,” he told Cailin. As his eyes came to rest on the young guard, he added, “He still has his coins.”
“Then who did it?” asked Cailin in a voice full of confusion.
“I don’t know,” he said. “We’ll report it to the Magistrate after we arrive in Quillim.” Moving to his horse, he grabbed the reins then remounted. “It’s none of our concern.” Turning to Cailin, he said, “I’ll stay here. Go tell Raestin it’s safe to proceed.”
“Yes sir,” Cailin said. Then still holding his crossbow loosely, he turned his horse around and quickly returned to where Raestin and the others were waiting. A minute later, they joined Paul by the dead men.
“Whatever happened here is over,” Paul told the trader as he drew near. Looking around the horizon, he said, “No one’s around.”
“Still,” replied Raestin, “we shouldn’t lower our guard.”
“Hadn’t planned to,” Paul assured him.
Before them, the road continued winding its way alongside the river. The forest, though not thick, could still hide a band of men bent on no good. Especially when the road wound its way over and through the rolling hills.
“It’s not more than five miles to the bridge,” Raestin stated. “Let’s make it quick.”
Paul nodded and took the lead. Moving at a pace quicker than what they had before, they headed for the bridge.
Cailin couldn’t help but stare at the dead men as they passed. Who would do such a thing and not rob them? That question and others ran through the minds of every man as they left the scene of death behind.
For the next hour they were more vigilant than usual. Harbingers of death seemed to lurk behind every tree, every shadow was a man with a bow ready to take their lives. When the bridge leading to Quillim finally appeared, a sense of relief came over them.
Paul noticed the drop in the men’s guard. “We’re not out of the woods yet,” he said. Then he realized they were in fact within a forest, sparse as it was near the road. Smiling to himself, he glanced over to Raestin who had a grin himself. “You know what I mean.”
Raestin chuckled and nodded.
They reached the bridge and crossed over, their horses’ hooves echoing on the wooden planks. Not far past the bridge, appeared the first outlying buildings of the village of Quillim. Not much more than farmhouses and barns, the village center was still some distance away. From off in the distance, the baaing of sheep could be heard.
That brought the remembrance of Black Face to Raestin, and the sheep statue he had given his love. He often wondered what Riyan would think when he found out his mother had kept the one sheep that had driven him crazy the most. Thinking of that impending moment brought a smile to him. Riyan was still a bit young yet to understand the sentimentality a woman can have for such things.
As they rode further toward the village center, they didn’t at first notice the lack of people out and about. But when the homes became more numerous, the absence was unmistakable.
“Where are the children?” asked Paul. The last time they had come this way, the sound of children at play could be heard everywhere. But now, only the occasional call of a bird broke the stillness.
“And their parents too,” added Kern. Things around here were a bit too quiet.
Then from up ahead they saw a woman coming toward them carrying a basket. When she took notice of them heading her way, she stopped. Then lifting the hem of her dress, she turned and fled toward the nearest house.
Raestin sat there on his horse stupefied by her reaction. You would have thought Raestin and his guards were the devils themselves by the way she reacted. Running without a sound, she reached the door, began knocking vigorously. When it opened, she darted inside and the door slammed shut behind her.
“Odd,” commented Sterret.
“Yes,” agreed Cailin, “you could say that.”
Continuing their way toward the heart of Quillim, Raestin began to grow worried. Quillim was nothing like it had been on his last trip. Many people had been about then, and most had either offered a wave, or some sort of salutation. This quietness began to have an ominous feel.
Leaving behind the house in which the woman had fled, they continued on.
Soon, the large arms of the windmill appeared through the tops of the trees as it slowly turned in the breeze. But in the quiet stillness through which they traveled, it only intensified their feelings of foreboding.
“Did someone die?” asked Terrance. He was an older guard with almost thirty years experience, the last ten having been with Raestin. Terrance was like the grandfather of the group, easily ten years everyone’s senior, including Raestin. Despite his age, he was still able to hold his own in a fight.
Riding on either side of him were the last two of their group, Koryn and Warry. Koryn was a sandy haired man of middling years who had been with Raestin for the last three summers. Warry on the other hand was dark haired, a bit taller than Koryn, and had but two years with the trader. He and Koryn were close to the same age, and during the time they had served together, grew to be fast friends.
Raestin was about to answer Terrance when shouting came from further ahead. “No!” a man yelled with anger in his voice. “Now, get out of here!” Nudging his horse into a faster pace, the trader hurried ahead.
Five men of an unsavory aspect were sanding before the door of the mill. One took notice of Raestin and his guards. Shortly, all five had taken note of their arrival.
“What should we do?” asked Paul.
“Nothing,” replied Raestin. “Let’s find Kaitlyn and see what’s going on.”
The five men continued to glare at Raestin’s group as they moved along the road. Then all of a sudden, the five men departed the front of the mill and headed around the back, disappearing in the trees.
“Ever see them before?” Raestin asked.
Behind him came several negative responses. Paul shook his head and said, “No.” Keeping a quick pace, Raestin and his guards hurried toward the village center through which they would pass on their way to the Borenson home.
As they passed home after home, they were greeted with silence and solitude. Occasionally, the occupants would peer out at their passing without any attempt at salutation. The whole situation had Raestin growing more and more worried.
Raucous laughter was suddenly heard coming from up ahead. It wasn’t long before they saw four men, derelicts by the look of them, standing together outside The Sterling Sheep. A woman emerged from the inn, a short distance from them. Upon seeing the four men, she immediately turned in the opposite direction and hurried away.
One saw her departing. Breaking off from his fellows, he hurried after her. “Now, where are you going in such a hurry?” he asked.
The woman didn’t even so much as turn her head to look at him, only quickened her pace.
His three buddies followed after and they soon had her surrounded.
“Leave me alone!” she cried as she was forced to come to a stop. Her plea only made them laugh all the harder.
Paul glanced to Raestin who nodded. To the other guards, he said, “Come on boys.” Kicking his horse in the ribs, he bolted toward the poor woman.
“Give us a kiss,” one man was saying as he grabbed her by the arm. He was about to pull her closer when he heard the approach of Paul and the other five guards. Releasing the woman, he and his three friends gauged their odds. Outnumbered by men on horseback, they backed off.
Crying badly, the woman raced away as well.
“Madam!” cried Paul. But she paid him no heed and raced away as fast as she could go. Anger filled him. Little in this world set him off like when he saw the helpless being victimized. Turning his gaze to where the men who had accosted her, he saw that they had been joined by the five who had been in front of the mill. The nine of them stood in a group, staring at Paul and his men.
“What is going on here?” questioned Paul.
“Not at all like it was the last time,” commented Sterret. He too had little patience with men like these.
“No,” he replied, “it isn’t.” With a final glare toward those who had accosted the woman, he turned his horse about and returned to Raestin. “Let’s find your lady and get to the bottom of this.”
Raestin nodded, then moved off quickly toward Kaitlyn’s home.
Paul kept an eye out toward the nine men that still stood watching them. The other he scanned for any signs of potential danger.
Once past the village center, it wasn’t far to the Borenson home. As they turned off onto the lane leading over the hill to the house, they heard the sound of men’s voices and the bleating of a sheep.
“Trouble,” Paul said.
Without thought for his own safety, Raestin kicked his horse in the sides and sped forward. Paul raced alongside him with the other guards right behind. Topping the hill before the Borenson home, he saw a group of men, eight in all, gathered before the front door.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A tall man in his mid thirties with sword in hand banged on the door with its hilt. “Open this door!” he demanded.
From within the house, came the voice of his love. “Go away!” she cried, fear evident in her voice. “He’s not here and I don’t know anything.”
“Yes you do!” he yelled.
Baaaaaaa! Baaaaaaa!
In the pen not far off, Black Face was bleating wildly. Running along the fence of his pen, it almost seemed as if he was trying to go to her aid.
“Shut that sheep up,” the leader said.
Raestin raced with all speed forward.
A man drew his sword and headed toward the pen.
“No!” screamed Kaitlyn from within the home as she realized what was about to happen.
The man with the sword moved to the pen and with a single strike, removed Black Face’s head. As its lifeblood flowed from its lifeless body, Kaitlyn shrieked.
Bearing down on the men that had caused his beloved such pain, Raestin was the specter of death as he drew his sword and charged. He was halfway to the gathered men before they even noticed. As they turned toward him, fear appeared on their faces and they drew their swords to defend themselves.
Such was the fury that drove him, that upon reaching the first man, he struck with great ferocity. The blow cleaved the other man’s sword in two and continued on to remove his head. As the bodiless head flew through the air, Paul and the others joined the fray.
Sterret’s horse trampled one man, and with a cry of battle, he struck at another but the blow was deflected. A second later, a bolt from Cailin’s crossbow struck the man in the chest and knocked him backward.
Koryn and Warry had waded into the fray with swords flying. The men before them were no match. Simple caravan guards they may be, but Paul was a hard taskmaster and daily drills were a requirement. Now, all that hard work was paying off.
Hack, block, slice, connect. A man fell to the ground with half his arm gone. Then another dropped beside him as Warry kicked the lifeless body from his blade.
At the sight of their comrades being taken out so readily, the last three men dropped their swords and fled.
Thwock!
A crossbow bolt struck one of the fleeing men in the back. Slowed but not stopped, the man continued to flee.
“After them!” Raestin commanded.
“Yes sir,” replied Paul. To Sterret he said, “Come with me. The rest stay and protect Raestin.” Bolting forward, he and Sterret went after the fleeing men.
The creak of an opening door drew Raestin’s attention. He saw his beloved peering out. “Raestin?” she asked in disbelief. “Is it really you?”
Tossing his bloody sword to the ground, Raestin leaped from his horse and went to her. “Yes my love,” he replied. “I am here.”
Flinging open the door wide, Kaitlyn Borenson came to him. Wrapping her arms around him in a fierce embrace, choking sobs began issuing forth.
Raestin wrapped his arms around her gently and said, “It’s over. You’re safe.” As her tears wet his tunic, he couldn’t help but glance over to the pen where Black Face had met his fate. Anger burned in him anew, he knew how much that sheep had meant to her.
Later that evening, after Black Face had been laid to rest and the bodies of the dead men were dragged off to the woods for the kidogs and wolves, they gathered around the dinner table having a meal Terrance had thrown together. Outside, Koryn and Warry stood watch.
“It’s been this way for over a week now,” she explained. She then spoke of the coming of Daniel and their subsequent meeting at The Sterling Sheep. “At first it wasn’t bad, but now…” She paused a moment then said, “They say Riyan has found the King’s Horde.”
Raestin’s eyes widened. “King’s Horde?” he said in disbelief.
Kaitlyn nodded. “It’s possible,” she said. “Somehow he and Chad was able to get into the Warriors Guild. He’s also sent money home in those packages you would bring.” She sighed. “I never thought…”
“I know,” Raestin said.
“They don’t believe me when I tell them that I don’t know anything,” she stated. “They think I’m protecting him.”
“We believe you,” Paul said. The others nodded agreement.
Sterret took a drink of his tea, as that was the only beverage other than water she had on hand. “Do you know anything about what he’s up to?” he asked.
She shook her head. “He has always been one to keep his business to himself,” she explained then turned toward Raestin. “What am I to do?”
“Staying here seems a bit dangerous,” Cailin offered.
“That’s right,” agreed Raestin. “You should leave Quillim. At least until this all gets settled.”
“No,” she replied. “I can’t leave until Riyan returns.”
“But you saw what happened here,” argued Paul. “If we hadn’t happened by, who knows what might have happened.”
“I know,” she said. “But I can’t.” She looked imploringly to Raestin for understanding.
Finally he nodded his head. “I understand,” he assured her. To Paul he said, “We’ll stay here until her son returns.” Then turning a smile toward Kaitlyn, he asked, “If that’s alright with you?”
“Oh yes,” she said, returning his smile. “That is quite alright with me.” Tears began to flow once more.
In the morning, they walked down to the Magistrate’s office to report what happened with the mob outside of Kaitlyn’s home and the subsequent attack. On the way, Kaitlyn wanted them to stop by the Kelon home to see how they were faring. After all, their son Chadric was in this just as much as was Riyan.
As the Kelon home came into view, they found it quiet and still. Not even smoke was coming from the chimney. Kaitlyn glanced to Raestin who shrugged. “Maybe they left town?” he suggested.
“I saw her two days ago and she made no mention of leaving,” she told him.
“Elle!” she hollered as they drew closer. When no answer was forthcoming, she hollered again. “Elle! It’s Kate!” Still no answer. She turned to Raestin with worry in her eyes.
“Didn’t you tell me the last time I was here that her husband was the local miller?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes, he is,” she replied.
“They may be at the mill,” he explained. “On our way to see you yesterday, we saw a group trying to get into the mill. Maybe they holed up there?”
Beside him, Paul nodded. “If they had any experiences like what you did yesterday, that would make sense,” he said.
“Oh, I hope so,” she said. They left behind the Kelon home and made their way to the mill.
Through the trees they could see the arms of the mill turning in the early morning breeze. A few people were out, moving quickly from one destination to another. Of the men who had accosted the woman the day before, there was no sign. Though after what happened last night at the Borenson home, Paul had Cailin keep his crossbow locked and loaded, just in case.
A wisp of smoke came from the mill’s chimney which greatly relieved Kaitlyn. “Thank goodness,” she said happily.
“Someone is there,” stated Paul. When she glanced to him, he added, “There’s no way to be sure it’s your friend and her family.”
“It’s them,” she said with certainty. Quickening her pace, she was soon before the door of the mill.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
She rapped three times upon the door.
“Go away!” a voice she recognized as Elle’s husband shouted from the other side.
“Ferrun,” she said through the door, “it’s Kaitlyn.”
A face peered through the mill’s window at the group standing before the door. It was Eryl, the Kelon’s youngest son. From the other side of the door, the sound of the bar being removed could be heard. A moment later, the door opened.
Elle rushed out and hugged her friend. “I have been so worried about you,” she said.
“And I, you,” replied Kaitlyn.
“Come in,” said Elle’s husband Ferrun.
As they entered, Raestin could see sleeping pallets set out of the way along the walls of the mill.
“I think you know Raestin,” Kaitlyn said.
Ferrun came and shook Raestin’s hand. “Trader, right?” he asked. “Met you last time you were here.”
“That’s right,” he replied. Behind him he heard Paul tell Cailin and Sterret to remain outside and keep an eye on things.
“These are his guards,” she said, continuing the introductions. Glancing around the mill at the store of food and bedrolls lying on the floor she asked, “Are you staying here now?”
Elle nodded. “Yes,” she said. “It isn’t safe at home anymore.”
“People keep coming around asking about Chad,” Eryl stated. “When we tell them we don’t know anything, they get mad.”
“One threatened to kill Eryl if we didn’t tell them what they wanted to know,” Elle explained.
“That’s when we came here,” Ferrun said. “It’s closer to town and better fortified.” In truth, the walls of the mill were strong, they had to be in order to support the massive windmill at its top. With only two doors, each thick with a strong wooden bar, it would take a mighty effort to break in.
“We’re on our way to talk with the Magistrate,” Kaitlyn told them. Then she went on to explain about the incident of the night before, the timely intervention by Raestin and his guards, and the decapitation of Black Face.
“Don’t know what good that’s going to do,” Ferrun stated. “There aren’t enough men in town to keep order.”
“Then maybe your Magistrate needs to ask the Duke for help,” suggested Raestin. “A company of his soldiers should be able to restore order in little time.”
At mention of the Duke, Elle and Kaitlyn grew fearful. They didn’t want the Duke to know their sons may have recovered treasure without giving him his share. Raestin understood their misgivings. “We have no choice,” he said to the women. “He’s going to know soon enough.”
“But…” stammered Elle.
“Things seem to be getting out of control,” argued Raestin. “Your Magistrate may have already sent to Wardean for help.”
Just then the mill’s door opened and Sterret stuck his head in and said “Sir?”
Raestin turned toward the door and saw the crowd gathering in the street on the other side. He could make out a couple of the men who had accosted the woman the night before among them. To Paul he said, “Go see what’s going on.”
Nodding in reply, Paul said, “Yes sir,” as he headed for the door.
“What’s happening?” Elle asked in a voice tinged with fear.
“Trouble,” replied her husband.
A score of men were gathered twenty feet from the doorway, three had bows. None were townsfolk. As Paul emerged from the mill, he quickly ascertained that the mood of the men was not good. Cailin had his crossbow out and aimed at the men. Paul came behind him and laid his hand on his young protege’s shoulder. “Easy,” he said.
Addressing the men, he shouted “What’s the meaning of this?”
A man in his early thirties stood a step before the others. Six feet tall and with the look of a hard life behind him, he asked, “Who are you?”
“Name’s Paul,” he replied. “And you are?”
“Slyvern,” came the reply. He said it as if Paul should recognize the name.
“What business do you have here?” asked Paul.
“All we want is for them inside to tell us what they know of the Horde’s location,” he stated.
“They know nothing,” Paul stated. “The first they heard of this was when people like you started pestering them about it.”
“Lies!” shouted Slyvern. A mumble of agreement rolled through those standing behind him.
“There is nothing of what you seek here,” Paul stated. “Leave.”
“Who do you think you are?” demanded Slyvern. A wild look came to his eyes as anger filled him. “We’re going to find out what we want to know, one way or another!” He took a step forward.
“Stop!” Paul said. Beside him, the sound of Sterret’s sword leaving its scabbard could be heard.
The man halted. “Stand aside or die!”
To Cailin, loud enough for all to hear, Paul said, “If he takes another step, kill him.”
“Yes sir,” replied Cailin. Moving his crossbow ever so slightly, he drew aim on Slythern’s chest. Two of the men with bows drew a bead on Cailin while the third targeted Paul.
“You are out numbered,” Slyvern said with a crooked grin. “Stand aside.”
A quiet fell over the two groups as each gauged the reaction of the other.
On the second floor of The Sterling Sheep, Daniel looked out his window toward the impending confrontation.
“Slyvern’s really got them stirred up,” commented Tox. Tox had been Daniel’s man now for the greater part of a decade. He was loyal and stalwart, rare commodities in their line of work.
“That’s what he’s getting paid to do,” replied Daniel. Then motion caught his eye as the Magistrate appeared leading a dozen locals, all but three carrying bows. They were moving to the growing altercation with great speed. “Looks like things aren’t going to get out of hand after all.”
“No it doesn’t,” agreed Tox.
They watched as the Magistrate reached the two groups. “Now, if only…”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Daniel turned to Tox. “See who it is.”
Crossing the room, Tox was soon at the door and opened it a crack. When he saw who was on the other side, he opened the door wider and in walked Rupert.
“My father is sending me to Warden to ask the Duke for aid,” he announced.
“Good,” replied Daniel. “I was hoping he would. Some rather bad sorts are making their way to your quiet village.” He paused a moment then asked, “When are you to leave?”
“Immediately,” he replied. “He wants me to return as soon as possible with help before things get completely out of hand.”
“It may take longer than you think,” advised Daniel. “You’ll have to convince them such intervention by the Duke’s men is warranted. And that could take time.”
Rupert reached into his pocket and produced a scroll. “I have a letter signed by my father explaining the situation,” he replied. “That should expedite things.”
“Again, maybe not,” countered Daniel. “Unless you can convince the right person, aid may be days in coming.”
“But my father is counting on me to return quickly,” Rupert told him.
“Perhaps I can be of help,” Daniel said.
“How?” asked Rupert.
“I know a man in the Duke’s guard who might be able to speed things up dramatically,” he replied. “I could supply you with a letter asking him to expedite things for you.”
Rupert nodded. “You would do that for me?” he asked.
“Of course,” replied Daniel magnanimously. Moving across to the room’s only table, he picked up a small, rolled scroll secured with a leather thong sealed with wax. Turning back to Rupert, he handed it over and said, “Here.” When Rupert took it, he could see the question in his eyes. “When I saw the commotion developing by the mill, I thought your father might send for help. So I prepared the letter just in case.”
Rupert took the letter. “Thank you,” he said.
“Not at all,” replied Daniel. “Always glad to be of help. Now make sure you speak with Captain Glaver before you talk with anyone else.”
“Where can I find him?” asked Rupert.
“Ask around at the keep,” Daniel replied.
Tucking the scroll into his belt pouch, he said, “Thank you again.”
Daniel patted him on the back with a grin and escorted him to the door. “Be careful on the road,” he advised.
“I will,” Rupert replied.
Tox opened the door for him and Rupert passed through on his way to the stairs. Once the door was shut and the sound of Rupert’s footsteps could no longer be heard, Tox asked, “Think Glaver will come?”
“Yes,” affirmed Daniel. “He and his boys owe me a favor.” Returning to the window, he saw that the situation before the mill had been diffused without bloodshed. Slyvern and his group were dispersing, and the Magistrate was speaking with those at the mill.
“What are we going to do if Duke Alric actually sends troops this way?” asked Tox.
Daniel turned to his man and said, “That would definitely complicate things. But once Glaver gets here, the situation is going to quiet down dramatically. There will be no need for any additional help.”
“Then when the shepherd arrives…?” asked Tox.
Giving his man a grin, he said, “It’ll be too late.”