by M. L. Forman
By the time they had finished their meal, Alex had gotten as far as his first battle with the three-legged troll and the discovery of the troll’s cave. Lupo and the others thought the story was a good one, and made Alex promise to tell them the rest when there was time. Alex agreed, but he wasn’t happy about it. His feelings about living a lie had not changed, and the story he had just told felt like the biggest lie of all.
“I’ve been told that trolls often keep large amounts of treasure,” Lupo said as they started riding north again.
“The story says there was a fair amount of treasure in the troll’s cave,” Alex said. “Still, stories often say more than is true.”
“And sometimes less,” one of the men with them commented.
“You tell the story well,” Lupo said, glancing at Alex as they rode. “You made me feel like I was there with the young adventurer.”
“And glad to be here in the warm sun,” another of the men joked. “A three-legged troll is nothing to laugh about, not if you’ve ever seen one.”
“Have you ever seen one?” Lupo asked, looking over his shoulder at the man.
“I’ve seen trolls with two legs, and that is more than enough,” the man answered. “I have heard that a troll with three legs is both meaner and faster than a troll with two.”
“A two-legged troll moves fast enough,” another man said with a laugh.
“Are there many trolls in Midland?” Alex asked.
“I’ve never seen any, but I’ve heard stories,” Lupo said. “Some stories say that the trolls travel in bands, while others claim that they are slaves to the goblins.”
“Are there goblins in Midland?” Alex asked, remembering his encounters with the evil creatures.
“Not that I know of,” Lupo said, glancing around to see if any of the men knew differently. “The stories about goblins come mostly from Westland, which is one of the reasons there is so much trouble there now.”
“I would guess so,” Alex said. “Many stories of adventure involve goblins, and from what I’ve heard, they are a terrible enemy to face.”
“Well, we shouldn’t have to worry about that,” Lupo said. “The worst we are likely to meet are bandits, and I would hope only small numbers of them.”
They rode through the afternoon. Now and then two or three of them would ride to a nearby hill so they could get a better view of the land around them. About three hours after they had eaten, they started looking for a campsite. Alex thought this could be difficult, because they had to have space for all the wagons and horses in the caravan, but it proved easy to find. They happened upon a large meadow and it was clear that many caravans had traveled this way before.
The main caravan came into view as the sun was setting. The movement of the caravan was well planned, and Lupo explained how it worked to Alex as they waited at the campsite. Each morning riders left the caravan to scout the road ahead. If there was anything to report or trouble, they would hurry back to the main body. If there wasn’t any trouble to report, they would wait at the campsite for the rest of the caravan to catch up. Normally the caravan camped for the night a few miles from the next city they would stop at. The next morning, the leader of the caravan would ride with a few others to the city and get permission for the caravan to set up outside the city’s walls. Once permission was granted, the caravan would move the last few miles to the city. Once they were set up they would stay for three days or more, selling their goods and trading for what they needed.
“Few cities would ever deny permission to a caravan,” Lupo said. “The trade is important to them, and the cities often profit as much as we do.”
It made sense, and Alex could see why most cities would be happy to have the caravans arrive. They would be able to obtain things that they could not get anywhere else, and news from places they might never go. They would be entertained by the actors and acrobats that traveled with the caravan, and have a chance to see exotic animals that were uncommon in Midland—or everywhere else for that matter. Alex could see that Whalen’s decision to join a caravan had been a good one. They could travel in safety, collecting news and rumors from far-off places, and not draw any attention to themselves.
“That story Lupo was trying to tell at dinnertime sounded familiar to me,” Whalen said, as he and Alex were preparing for bed.
“Yes, well . . .” Alex replied, unsure if Whalen was upset or just teasing him.
“The part of the young adventurer seems to have grown since the last time I heard the tale,” Whalen went on with a slight smile.
“Lupo did add a few things in his telling,” Alex said, relieved that Whalen was smiling.
“What brought that story up, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Lupo thinks he would like to be an adventurer. When we stopped for lunch, he asked me to tell him a story about adventurers—you know, something I’d heard. The other men joined in, calling for a story, and well, that one just came out.”
“No harm done,” Whalen said, sitting down on his blankets. “Still, you might be a little more careful in which stories you decide to tell. Stories about you, even if nobody knows they are about you, can be dangerous.”
“How so?”
“Hearing a story about you, or rather, about a young adventurer who did so much, might bring you to mind. It could make certain people think about you, and who you know, and what you’ve done in the past. They might not connect you to that young adventurer, but it could make them think.”
“I see. I suppose that some people know about my connection to you as well. Some people might suspect that I’m helping you if they were to hear a story about me, that is.”
“It’s possible. I’m sure our enemies in the Brotherhood know a great deal more about you than you might think. They aren’t fools, after all. They would want to know as much as possible about you, just in case.”
“I’ll keep that in mind if I tell any more stories.”
“Now,” Whalen said, taking out his pipe, “I need you to tell me a story.”
“What story?” Alex asked, surprised.
“I need to know what happened in Nezza, and what, if anything, you’ve learned about our enemies.”
Alex was silent for a few minutes thinking about his last adventure and deciding what was important and what wasn’t. Whalen didn’t hurry him and didn’t ask questions as Alex told him everything. It took him a long time to explain everything that had happened and what he had discovered in Nezza. When he’d finished, Whalen sat with his eyes closed for several minutes, deep in thought.
“It seems you have a dangerous enemy,” Whalen finally said. “I don’t think we need to worry about Magnus at the moment, but this Gaylan person interests me. We will need to be careful of him, I think.”
“I don’t think he’s in charge of the Brotherhood, but I’m sure he’s important . . . in the organization, I mean.”
“No, not in charge, but certainly in direct contact with the person who is in charge. If we could find and track Gaylan . . .”
Whalen trailed off, but Alex didn’t need him to go on. It was clear. If they could track Gaylan then they could find the head of the Brotherhood. If they could find the head of the Brotherhood, they could put an end to the evil the Brotherhood was causing. Only one person was in charge of the Brotherhood, and that person was powerful enough to control the other members of the group. Other members that were, perhaps, throughout all the known lands.
Alex didn’t sleep much that night. His thoughts about the Brotherhood troubled him. When he was finally able to push those thoughts away, he tried to relax his mind and think more like a dragon, but he lay awake for a long time, and it was nearly sunrise before he allowed himself to rest and sleep.
After breakfast, Lycan rode off with a few other members of the caravan to get permission to move closer to the city. Alex watched them ride away and wasn’t surprised when Lupo came looking for him.
“We have until midday at least,” Lupo said. “I t
hought we might use some of that time to practice with the blunt swords.”
“Will your father be angry?” Alex asked.
“This isn’t dueling—this is training,” Lupo laughed.
Alex agreed, and was pleased to see that Lupo was not alone in his desire to learn. Several of the young men from the caravan came to watch them practice, and Alex made a point of getting them all involved. While it would have been easier to just teach Lupo, he thought that training them all might be more helpful. If they were attacked on the road they would be better prepared to defend themselves and the caravan.
When Lycan returned to their camp, Alex had several of the young men paired up and practicing with each other. He was walking around the group, observing their skills and making suggestions or demonstrating what they were doing wrong. Lycan sat on his horse watching for several minutes before riding over to them with a smile on his face.
“You could have waited until I could join in,” Lycan said with a laugh.
“In the future we will,” Alex said.
“No, it is better this way,” Lycan said. “I have many things to do and little time to learn new things.”
“You should try to join us, Father,” Lupo said, walking up beside Alex. “With a few months of this training, we will be ready for any enemy we might meet on the road.”
“I doubt we will meet anything we cannot handle now,” Lycan said, smiling down at his son. “Still, it is good to be prepared for anything, so I will try to join in when I can.”
The afternoon was busy. Setting up tents and getting all of the wagons in place took a lot of work. By the time the evening meal was prepared, the caravan was almost ready to start trading with the city. It had been a long day for Alex, and he had not been able to relax his mind as much as he had hoped he would.
That night Alex spent some more time trying to think like a dragon, trying to understand everything Salinor had told him. Now and then he thought he might be getting close to thinking like a dragon, but he was never sure. He might have been thinking like a dragon for a moment, but something would always distract him just as he was almost there—dogs barking in the night, unknown noises from the city, even the sound of wild animals moving outside the camp. It seemed that the smallest thing would break into his thoughts, and Alex knew that he’d never think like a dragon if he couldn’t keep his focus while allowing those things to happen around him.
Everyone was up and moving early the next morning. There was much to be done before they started trading with the people in the city, and everyone had something to do. Alex helped Whalen set up their tables, asking questions about the goods Whalen had brought with them. Whalen explained everything in a low voice so that only Alex would hear what he was saying. Alex was supposed to be his apprentice, after all, and should have already known most of what Whalen was telling him.
The company ate breakfast, and then Lycan gave the order to move some of the wagons. The wagons that were moved were the ones closest to the city gates, and had only been placed there to keep the people of the city out until everything was ready. Alex was surprised by how many people were already waiting outside the circle of wagons, and he guessed that it had been some time since a caravan had come this way.
Alex worked with Whalen all morning, surprised by how good a salesman Whalen turned out to be. Whalen would call out to the people who passed, letting them know exactly what it was he had to sell. It didn’t hurt that Whalen sold things at a good price, and would often let people argue his prices down. Alex didn’t think that Whalen was going to make any money on this journey, but then again, they hadn’t come to Jarro to make money.
They spent four days at this small city, before the caravan prepared to move on. Once again Alex would be riding ahead of the caravan, but this time the next city was two days away instead of one. They were still far south of any likely trouble, but Alex stayed alert for any signs of danger. He wasn’t looking just for possible trouble for the caravan; he was looking for anything that might be trouble for Whalen and himself.
So it went as the caravan moved north and a bit west along the ancient roads of Midland. They stopped at every city on the road, and they encountered no trouble. The crowds were always happy to see them, and to Alex’s surprise he was able to learn a great deal about what was happening in Midland and in Westland.
It was a happy time for Alex, even as busy as he was. He continued to teach Lupo and the others how to use the sword, and was pleased that they all seemed to be learning quickly. He also continued to practice thinking like a dragon and working his dragon magic. He wouldn’t do anything that would be noticed, but using only his dragon magic took more concentration than he’d thought it would. Two things continued to trouble him, however; he had to continue pretending to be something he wasn’t—and Whalen.
Whalen was talking less than usual, and he seemed to have something on his mind all the time. The old wizard looked tired, even early in the morning, and Alex wasn’t sure that his friend was sleeping at all. Whenever Alex asked him, Whalen would smile and say it was nothing, but Alex knew that wasn’t true.
After almost two months of travel, Alex found something else to worry about.
Riding ahead of the caravan, scouting their path as he often did with Lupo and several others, he noticed some unusual tracks. When he first saw them, he felt confused, but after a closer inspection, he was sure of what they were.
“Goblins,” Alex said, wiping dirt from his hands. “Ten at least. Maybe as many as twenty, moving west.”
“How can you be sure?” Lupo asked.
“These tracks were made by iron shoes,” Alex said, following the tracks with his eyes. “Goblin soldiers either wear iron shoes or no shoes at all.”
“Ten or twenty goblins won’t bother the caravan,” one of the men commented from his horse.
“You don’t know that,” another man said. “Goblins are fierce. They could be a danger to the caravan. Maybe a danger to the nearby cities as well.”
“If there really are only ten or twenty goblins, the caravan should be able to handle them,” Alex said, climbing back into his saddle. “But this could be a scouting party for a much larger force, or perhaps a small group of raiders.”
“You think there are more of them?” Lupo asked.
“I don’t know,” Alex said, considering what he knew about goblins. “I don’t think twenty goblins would be moving in country like this alone.”
“But they’re moving west, and our path lies to the north,” Lupo said nervously.
“They were going west when they crossed the road,” Alex corrected. “That was before dawn this morning. Where have they gone now?”
Lupo thought for a moment. “Tonlar, ride back and tell my father what we’ve found,” he said. “Alex, you and I will follow these tracks to see if they change directions or meet others. The rest of you, continue along the road, but be careful.”
The men all nodded and Tonlar turned his horse around and headed back to the caravan. Alex smiled at Lupo and started off along the trail the goblins had left. If the tracks continued to the west there would be little to worry about, but if they turned north, there could be trouble.
For most of that afternoon Alex and Lupo followed the goblin tracks, but they continued to move almost due west. No other tracks met the ones they were following, and Alex felt certain that the goblins had not joined with any others. Still, it was strange to see goblin tracks in Midland, and Alex felt unsettled the rest of the day.
Later that night when Whalen and Alex were alone, Whalen asked, “You are certain they were goblins?”
“I know goblin tracks when I see them,” Alex said.
“And you followed them west,” Whalen said thoughtfully.
“For more than ten miles,” Alex said, stretching his legs.
“A pity you didn’t track them east as well,” Whalen said, sitting down on his own blankets.
“Why? They were moving west.”
�
��This group was going west, but I wonder where they came from. I’ve never heard of goblins in Midland, and this news worries me. Goblins don’t often cross seas to reach new lands, so I have to wonder where this group came from.”
“You think Jabez has something to do with it?” Alex said, considering the possibilities.
“I’m certain of it. He is moving faster than I thought he would, faster than I hoped he would.”
“Moving toward what?”
“Open war, perhaps. I’m not sure what his plans are, but I’m sure he wants to control all of Jarro before he’s done.”
“You believe the goblins are working for him. I didn’t think goblins would serve a human.”
“He’s not just a human, but a wizard. And not just a wizard, but a dark wizard. They will serve him as long as they see some profit in it.”
“Then perhaps we should move faster. I know you want to keep as quiet as you can and stay out of sight, but if Jabez is ready to declare open war . . .”
“Not yet,” Whalen said, his voice soft. “He’s not ready yet, we still have time.”
Alex didn’t like Whalen’s answer, but he didn’t argue. Whalen knew what he was doing, and he had a strong magical connection to Jabez. If Whalen felt that Jabez wasn’t ready for open war, then Alex felt certain that Whalen was right. Without saying anything more, Alex rolled into his blankets and went to sleep.
The next day they moved north once more, stopping a few miles from the next city the caravan would visit. There were no more signs of goblins, and Alex hoped that there wouldn’t be. He’d dealt with goblins before, and he knew how dangerous they could be. He thought about changing his sword, putting away the fine blade that Mr. Blackburn had sold him and replacing it with Moon Slayer, his own magic sword. He knew the goblins would be afraid of his magic sword, and that fear alone might be enough to save the caravan if they ran into trouble, but he also knew that using Moon Slayer would call unwanted attention to his and Whalen’s quest.