by Rex Hazelton
“Get ready Benji.” With his mind made up, Quinn sounded excited as his blood rose to the occasion. He was no coward, that was for sure. “I need you to catch those pigs, you hear.” He smiled confidently at his friend as he nodded to Anye, and when he did, she turned the timing glass over with a gulp and the pigs were released.
Off the squeeling pigs went as the cage they were in was tipped over to force them into a running start. Scattering every which way, the pigs were frightened by the boy who leapt into their midst and tried to snatch them up. Scrambling about with a quickness that revealed his inherent athleticism, Benjamin soon cornered a pig against the stable wall. After delivering it to the basket that sat near the tavern’s back door, all trussed up, he returned to the chase. Darting this way and that as he followed close behind a second pig, Benjamin dove head first and grabbed at a leg. But the grease covering the stubby appendage made it impossible for him to maintain his hold and the pig was soon free again. All the time this was happening, the grains of sand slipped effortlessly through the narrow channel that bore its way through the timing glass. Their descent was so fast, one might have thought that they were covered with grease too.
Then in the midst of a cloud of dust, Benjamin did a barrel roll as he snatched up a pig that had been distracted from the pursing boy by one of Sledge’s men who couldn’t help but kick at the frightened animal as it passed by.
“Ashes man!” Sledge yelled. “What are you doing, you idiot?”
Not long afterwards, a second pig was delivered to the basket all bound up. Still the impartial sand sped along as it mindlessly fell from the top of the timing glass. Twice, Benjamin grabbed hold of the last pig only to let the grease-covered animal squirt out of his grasping arms. If he lost it a third time, there wouldn’t be enough sand left to give him a fourth shot at the squirming animal.
“Ha! I can’t lose, I tell you,” Darwyn Sledge boasted as he watched the sand slipping away.
Then, like the gods wanted to punish Darwyn for boasting, the pig ran between the legs of a woman who was helping to keep the animal in the field of play and headed for the alleyway. But before it could escape, the frightened creature ran headfirst into a fence post and knocked itself unconscious. A moment later, Benjamin scooped the limp animal up and raced for the basket that was on the other side of the corral.
Down came the sand as the fleet-footed boy sped across the ground. But just before he reached the basket, Benjamin slowed down when he heard Sledge threaten him, and in the moment he hesitated, the pig awoke, wiggled out of the boy’s arms, and landed on the ground a step in front of the basket. At the same moment the pig landed on its feet, the last grain of sand fell into the bottom of the hour glass.
Some in the waning crowd were disappointed Darwyn Sledge hand won because they were rooting for Anye and Quinn. Others were disappointed because they wanted to see what the man would do if he lost. Most left mistakenly feeling the drama hand ended.
“Pay up, boy.” Sledge stepped forward after one of his companions congratulated him with a slap on the back.
“Here.” Looking sour, Quinn reluctantly lifted the purse that held the day’s earnings.
Seeing how little he had won, Sledge snapped out, “That ain’t right. I wagered ten times what you did.”
“No… we bet the same,” Quinn slowly replied. “As you said, it was all you had bet against all I had.”
“Well, it ain’t enough!”
“It’ll have to do,” Quinn didn’t like the way things were going, “I don’t have anything else.”
“Oh yes you do.” Sledge’s eyes looked hungrily at Anye as he spoke.
Seeing the lust-filled expression on the man’s large, round face, Quinn quickly replied, “We’re done here. Anye let’s go.” But when he and his sister tried to leave as the last of the onlookers quickly slipped into the alleyway, or into the Noisy Cricket, Sledge’s men stepped in front of them blocking their way.
Only a few people, other than the young people Quinn and Anye employed in their enterprise, remained, and those that were there didn’t look like they would offer the brother and sister any help if need arose.
Determined to protect his sister, Quinn tried pushing through the two men who stood between them and the doorway leading to the tavern’s empty kitchen. But the men didn’t give way. Instead, they shoved the young man back and reached for the cudgels hanging from their belts. When Quinn tried to force his way through the two again, the men struck him across the head and on the shoulder, driving him to the ground.
Anye screamed as she watched her brother fall. Then Sledge grabbed her by the arm and dragged her toward the stable. A second scream was cut short when he punched her in the face a moment before the two disappeared through the stable's door that another of Sledge's men had slid open.
While the two men continued to beat Quinn with clubs, two others faced down the few remaining young people who refused to flee, those who were powerless to help Anye other than to run for help. One of these sprinted all the way to the Eyrie of the Eagle where they, after yelling for as loud and for as long as they could at the gate leading to the School of the Candle, was taken to Travyn who was visiting with Loda’Gar, the Bro’Noon cheiftain who had come to the School of the Candle to see his son.
Night had fallen by the time Travyn and Ilya'Gar reached the Noisy Cricket. Elamor Oakenfel and Loda’Gar accompanied them. After greeting Travyn and his mother at the door to the Noisy Cricket, Lloyd led the four of them through the bustling tavern and up the stairs to a room where Anye was being tended to by the tavern owner’s wife and a Candle Maiden.
A second Candle Maiden was bent over the body of a young man that lay in a second bed. Initially not recognizing Quinn because of his swollen face, neck, and exposed shoulders, Travyn was startled by what he saw, and what he saw inflamed the anger he had been nursing on his ride down from the Eyrie of the Eagle.
Throwing the hood fashioned with flame- shaped pieces of cloth off hear head, Elamor went over to talk with the other Candle Makers while Loda’Gar talked with Lloyd out in the hallway. With silver hair covering Travyn's grandmother's head, she was still a beautiful woman, who looked as fit as someone twenty summers younger than herself.
Travyn and Ilya'Gar went to Anye’s bedside. Seeing the two approaching, the young woman turned her bruised and swollen face away from them.
“Anye, you don’t need to be ashamed.” Travyn took his broad-brimmed hat off his head as he spoke, fully revealing the amber rings of fire glowing in his eyes. “You’re among friends who love you.”
Wishing that she and Travyn were more than friends, Anye turned to look at him when she heard the word love. With one of her blue eyes nearly closed shut by the discolored swelling that surrounded it, the young woman found the strength to smile through the swollen lips Darwyn Sledge’s fist had split open. “I’m going to be alright,” she told Travyn. “But Quinn’s in bad shape. He’s been unconscious ever since they beat him. If the Candle Maker hadn’t told me he was still alive, I’d think he was already dead.”
“Darwyn Sledge did this to you?” Ilya'Gar growled out the detestable name through clenched teeth, his nostrils flaring above his snout-like mouth as he did.
Anye diverted her eyes to the foot of the bed as she heard the name of the man who had brutily raped her. Taking a moment to gather her composure, she said, “Yes,” with a voice so quiet the hunchman had to lean forward to hear it.
“My grandmother is going to take you to the School of the Candle where there's a better chance of saving Quinn’s life.” Travyn touched Anye’s arm with a hand that lacked the gentleness he wished to convey. The taut muscles in his arm were not able to convey such tenderness, not when they were getting ready to deal with the despicable men who had dealt so cruelly with his friends.
Instead of being comforted by Travyn's touch, the look in his eyes frightened Anye. Her friend looked dangerous like the dogs that wandered the streets of Crow's Vale did when they s
quared off to fight.
Anye had always known Travyn held something deep inside him that he struggled to keep in check, something dark. It tainted his reserved but civil demeanor with a menacing air.
“And what are you going to do?” Feeling she was responsible for loosing the beast that Travyn kept chained up inside, Anye's eyes filled with tears as she whispered her words.
“Ilya'Gar and I are going hunting,” Travyn said with an eerie calmness that belied the rage he felt. “Once were done, we’ll come back to you.”
“You’re going after Sledge,” Anye’s tears fell onto her swollen cheeks as she spoke, “aren’t you?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Travyn forced a smile as he bent down and gently kissed Anye’s forehead. A moment later, he turned to Elamor and asked his grandmother to follow him into the hallway where they talked for a time.
That was more than a moon ago. And ever since then, Travyn and Ilya'Gar had doggedly pursued Darwyn Sledge and his men.
Chapter 6: Rough Justice
Leaving Crow’s Vale was the street tough’s only option once he used Anye's unwilling body to sate his lusts. Staying wasn’t in the cards. Not when so many knew what he had done. To perpetrate a crime in a dark alleyway or in the dead of night when no one was looking was one thing, to do it in broad daylight with witnesses around was another. Reprisals were sure to come in spite of the gang of ruffians he surrounded himself with. The local magistrate would see to that and the Valamorian soldiers who were assigned to help the magistrate keep a modicum of order in Crow’s Vale otherwise unruly environs.
Leaving Crow’s Vale was alright with Sledge. With the winnings he had, he planned to stake himself to a new life in another place. His days of being a mere street tough were over. It was about time that he made a living in conventional way. For example, if Darwyn used his winnings to purchase a pair of wagons, as he had always wanted to do, he could hire them out to move freight. With his profits, he could eventually turn two wagons into four and then four into eight. Then maybe he'd try his hand at being a merchant.
So, once Sledge had taken what he wanted from Anye as a departing indulgence, he bought a horse and rode off, leaving all but two of his companions, who were able to acquire horses, to fend for themselves. These fled Crow's Vale afoot, confused and angry over their leader abandoning them.
As far as Darwyn Sledge figured things, being no more than a street urchin, Anye didn’t provide the authorities with enough of a motive to spend the resources necessary to pursue him. Other than Quinn, there was no family to avenge her. So, as long as he stayed out of Eagle’s Vale, the street tough felt he’d be safe enough.
Still, filled with the kind of hubris that made other disreputable men willing to let him be their leader, Sledge carelessly boasted about what he had done and where he planned to go. So, it was easy enough for Travyn and Ilya'Gar to find out where he went. All they had to do was track down the men who had fled on foot and extract the information out of them. In fact, the two they caught were only glad to give up the man they felt had deserted them, even though Sledge had said they could join him again in Eagle’s Landing, once they made their way there. And for their compliance- though beaten as ruthlessly as Quinn was- the ruffians were left bloody, broken, but still alive.
Once in Eagle’s Landing, a large river town that acted as an inland port that served Eagle’s Vale, Travyn and Ilya'Gar found that Darwyn Sledge had already left. After a night of throwing dice, where he lost much more than he won- for his hot streak in Crow’s Vale had finally come to an end- the street tough got in a fight that left a riverboat captain dead. Leaving the town, he continued to move deeper into the Crescent Plains, choosing to travel over terrain where he could use his horse's speed to put distance between him and Eagle's Landing encase the captain's crew wanted to even the score. This led Travyn and Ilya'Gar on a chase that took them to four other villages located on the plain’s expanse. In each, of these Sledge had lost more money and gotten into more fights, though no one else was left dead. Travyn and Ilya'Gar agreed that it was like tracking down a storm with all the damage Sledge left in his wake.
In time, Travyn and Ilya'Gar realized Darwyn Sledge and his men had changed directions and were heading back toward Eagle’s Vale. No doubt, the losses Sledge was sustaining made him change his plans. Running out of money, he needed to find a way to renew his resources, and what better destination to do that than in The Cut. The lawless town was the perfect place for him to go. Here, where the limits one could wager were unrestricted, if his luck at gaming could change, he might win enough to fund his plans to get a new start in one of Nyeg Warl’s other realms. If he lost again, he might find someone who was looking for men who owned their own horses to join their band; be it as a sell sword or highwayman, it made no difference to Sledge and his companions.
Only two-thirds its former size, the Bandit Moon had shed much of its former luminous glory so it could climb higher into the night sky to get a better look at the human and hunchman that wound their way down the steep cliffside. Leaving the cave behind, Travyn and Ilya'Gar were heading to The Cut, following a scant trail that only the Bro’Noon knew existed.
Telling Travyn about the whereabouts of the cave was a testament to the level of trust that existed between Ilya'Gar and his friend since it was unlawful for a beast-man to share the secret of its existence with a human. Without receivng a special permission from the Bro’Noon chieftain to reveal its location, to do so could be punishable by death.
Twenty winters earlier, one of Ar Warl’s dark wizards, who belonged to the Order of the Hag, was led to the same place at a time when a plot against the Prophetess was hatched. Other than the Hag and Travyn, no other human knew about the place the hunchmen used so they could pass through northern Nyeg Warl unnoticed.
Looking like insects crawling down a wall, the hunchman and human wound their way down a cliffside following a path that was seldom used and invisible to the naked eye from below. So few had come this way, and only hunchmen and one Hag were numbered among those who did, a well-worn trail had never been created. Appearing as tiny black blotches against a backdrop of ghostly pale gray stone bathed in silvery moonlight, the two hunters were hard to distinguish from the shadows cast by the jagged rocks they traversed. Only their motion identified them as being different from things inanimate. And all the time they traveled, the Bandit Moon rose higher into the air, shrinking in size as it did like it was withdrawing from the violent intentions that the human and hunchman carried with them.
The twinkling lights of Eagle’s Vale’s eastern reaches could be seen far south of The Cut, on the other side of a narrow plain that tilted in the Eyrie River's direction like a table top askew. The Eyrie of the Eagle was hidden from sight behind irregularities found on the same mountainous arm that was home to the gorge where The Cut was located, one that angled off in a northeasterly direction from where it broke away from the Thangmor Mountains' main body. The Cut itself had few visible lights, for most of the buildings, their doors and windows, were closed up tight like they feared the Bandit Moon would take their light away like it had the stars above.
Though the Eagle’s Vale was only a day’s march away, Travyn hoped Stewart would reach the mouth of the gorge The Cut sat in by midnight, for he desired to reach the Eyrie of the Eagle before morning, where Anye awaited his return. Stewart was the older of the two stable boys who worked at the Noisy Cricket taking care of the patrons’ stock. Having grown fond of Anye over the course of all the Market Days she had used the tavern’s corral for her games, and after helplessly witnessing what had happened to her and her brother, Stewart had volunteered to help Travyn and Ilya'Gar track down Sledge as his way of making amends for being bullied into submission by the ruffians’ threats.
I can take care of the horses, he argued when Ilya'Gar didn’t warm up to the idea of his coming since hunchmen abhorred cowards. I can cook. I can do all the little things that will free you to focus your attention on finding
the fire-blasted bastard that hurt Quinn and Anye. I’m almost full grown now. Stewart stood as tall as he could to display both his height and resolve. I can fight… that is…I’ll fight this time. I swear it. The young man was determined to prove that he wasn't craven.
And sure enough, Stewart had come in handy. The lad had more than carried his weight. He’d proven he had backbone too, just as he said he would. And at the moment, Stewart was leading Travyn and Ilya'Gar’s horses through the night; even though a solitary man with three mounts would draw the kind of attention that could get him killed. There was no lack of highwaymen in this part of Nyeg Warl and more so as one approached The Cut. Still, he pressed on through the moonlit night determined to make it to the rendezvous on time to meet the man who decided to trust him.
With his long, gray cloak blowing in the wind behind him as he urged the horses on, Stewart looked down at the long knife Travyn had given him for protection. Tucked into his belt, he had never owned something so valuable. And to think it was a gift from the Prophetess and Hammer Bearer’s son. With his wavy, brown hair being tossed about as he rode, Stewart regularly changed mounts to keep the animals as fresh as he could.
Travyn and Ilya'Gar, setting off on foot to cross the massive appendage of stone that reached out into the Crescent Plains from where it broke away from the Thangmor Mountains, left their horses behind to take trails too dangerous for such large animals to travel on. If a man was determined enough, the finger of mountain could be crossed in a hard day’s march, while it would take two days to ride around it. If the hunchman and human were fast enough, and luck was on their side, they planned to meet up with Sledge before he left The Cut.