Wren and the Ravens

by Eric Buffington

  “Wishful thinking,” Liden responded. “That just means we’ll be running behind a wagon instead of a man on horseback.”

  Knell elbowed Liden in the ribs. “That’s terrible!”

  “And we’ll be watching him sitting in the wagon with his legs propped up like a rabbit in a snare,” Sarta added.

  “Rabbit snares catch them by the neck and kill them,” Liden corrected automatically. Then he turned north, focusing on what he could make out about the stranger with Wren. Despite being back lit, as they closed in on him, they could see he was a soldier. He was wearing light traveling armor of the Merrynian army. Liden hadn’t ever seen a soldier from Merryn before. The tall, broad soldier had a longsword hanging from his hip, and he leaned casually against the wagon as he spoke with Wren.

  Debir voiced Liden’s concern almost at the moment he thought it. “He’s very friendly with that Merrynian.”

  “How can anyone loyal to Kresthin be meeting so openly with a Merrynian soldier?” Hunlok asked.

  Liden didn’t want to mention that there was nobody within miles to see this meeting, but he did have a point. “I doubt very much that Wren is loyal to Kresthin.”

  “What makes you say that?” Sarta asked, stepping in to defend Wren.

  “He broke us out of a camp of Kresthin soldiers,” Liden responded. “He wasn’t doing that to help us out, he was just making chaos for his own purposes.”

  Sarta placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the side. “What’s your point?”

  “What if we had been enemies to the Kresthin Kingdom? We were prisoners of the Kresthin Army.” He spoke deliberately, emphasizing each word. He waved his hand to cut off the conversation as they came within earshot of Wren and the soldier.

  “Load up.” Wren waved for them to join him. “Going back for you almost made us miss our ride.” He looked directly at Liden.

  The soldier laughed lightly and slapped Wren on the back as if it was part of some joke they had not heard. Wren jumped up on the front seat of the wagon next to the soldier and he clicked his tongue at the horses. The animals took a step forward and the soldier had to pull back on the reins a little to keep the animals from moving. “They’re not loaded in yet,” he protested, pointing back at Liden and the others.

  “If I waited for them to be ready, I’d still be back at my cottage,” he replied in a dry tone.

  The soldier’s face split into a smile, but when he saw that Wren’s face was stone, his smile vanished. “Best be hurryin’. He called back to the group of teenagers.

  Hunlok grabbed Knell’s pack from off her back and she climbed up into the wagon. From the ground Hunlok handed up each pack and the others quickly got loaded in. Hunlok then climbed in and before he had time to sit down, Wren was clicking his tongue again and the horses were on the move.

  When the wagon stopped for the night and Liden stepped out onto the solid ground, he felt like the world was still jostling back and forth. It took several seconds of getting used to not moving before he was able to help with setting up camp. Wren had a canvas tent that he quickly set up off by himself away from the fire. They tried to copy how he constructed the tent, but even with all five of them working on it, by the time they had it set up, Wren’s soldier friend, Kinow, had a fire going and had their supper ready.

  They joined Wren and Kinow sitting around the fire. “This here’s the best beef stew you’ll be eatin’ anywhere.” The large soldier handed a bowl of stew to Knell first, then Sarta, then to the others.

  Liden blew on the stew and waited for it to cool. “How long is the trip?” He was actually relieved that they weren’t walking the entire way, and now he wondered how quickly they’d be able to do whatever Wren wanted and get on their way.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Kinow responded. “Depends on the route.”

  “We’re going northwest up to the lake, then west, following the southern shore of Red Deer Lake.” Wren cut in between bites of his stew.

  Kinow bobbed his head back and forth as if considering, but not convinced of Wren’s plan. “It is quicker that way, but more patrols. If we go up north around the lake we won’t meet anyone along the trail.”

  “That shouldn’t matter,” Wren said, tossing a small package to Kinow.

  The soldier cracked it open and looked in by the firelight. He blew out a whistle through his teeth. Liden leaned forward, trying to see what was in the pack, but Kinow closed it shut. “This’ll take care of most of our problems,” he said, waving the pack, “but what about them?” Kinow asked, pointing at the others. “They’re Kresthinians for certain, ain’t no hidin’ that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sarta asked, inserting herself into their conversation.

  Wren rubbed his temples, and groaned as if his patience with Sarta was already spent. “Children in the north don’t dress like miners and farmers,” Wren answered, pointing at their clothing. “They also don’t travel around in a troupe without any parents. More than that, they don’t have fire red hair,” he added, pointing at Debir, “and they don’t interrupt when adults are speaking.” He ended his last note with a sideways nod at Sarta.

  “The giant boy there, and the plain one can get by with just a change of clothing, but what about the others?” Kinow said.

  “Plain?” Liden said in protest.

  “There they go, interrupting again,” Kinow said, pointing at Liden. “Ain’t no way you be gettin’ them past the guards.”

  “The juggler is not the fastest learner,” Wren admitted.

  “I have a name,” Liden retorted.

  Wren set down his empty bowl and circled around the fire. He reached down and grabbed a piece of charred wood and rubbed his bare hands over the black wood. Without giving an explanation, he wiped his hands off in Debir’s hair, darkening it slightly. “Red hair. No problem. If it doesn’t darken, we’ll cover it with a hat.” He walked past them to the wagon and grabbed a large sack and brought it back. Liden had no idea what was in there, but it looked light by the way Wren carried it. He dropped it down at Knell’s feet. “Here are your new clothes. In the morning, you will all burn what you are wearing.”

  “Hold on,” Liden protested. “Before we agree to make all these changes, we need something from you.”

  Kinow and Wren exchanged a look. “Are you making demands beyond me saving your life twice? That seems a little ungrateful. What else could you possibly want?”

  “How about a shred of respect for starters,” Liden said, rising to his feet.

  Wren started lightly chuckling and Kinow burst out in belly-shaking laughter. “That seems like a high price for someone who hasn’t earned it.”

  “At least give us the consideration you give your pet.” Liden pointed at the black bird that was perched on the roof of Wren’s tent.

  Wren stopped chuckling and nodded as if considering Liden’s words. “You have no idea how many times that raven has helped me escape or avoid death. He warns me of danger, does my bidding, obeys every command with precision, and he has never botched one of my jobs or slowed me down. He doesn’t even need a name. Perfect behavior, no hassle.”

  “I’ve got an idea.” Kinow still had a wide grin on his face. “If they want to be like the raven so much, we should treat them like him. Feed them crackers, make them run ahead to scout out the trail, and get rid of their names. We could just call them the ravens.”

  “No,” Wren immediately dismissed the idea. “They would need to earn that title. Ravens are intelligent, happy to do their work. They are obedient and loyal, they don’t ever complain, and unless there is something important to say, they are quiet.”

  “Wait just one second!” Sarta protested.

  Wren took three lightning quick steps and leaned down inches from her face. “I can make you look like you belong, I can even train you how to stand out when you need to, but the Merrynian guards will slit your throats if you can’t learn to keep your mouths shut.” He kept a hard stare down at Sar
ta until she shrank away and clung to Knell, nodding her head, but, to her credit, keeping her mouth shut. Wren then looked up at Kinow and nodded his head in satisfaction. “Problems solved.” He left the fire and closed the flap of his tent, leaving the group in an awkward silence.

  The fire cracking was the only sound as the youth finished their stew and cleaned up the dishes in a stream near their camp.

  “Still sure about this trip?” Debir asked as they settled into their slightly cramped tent.

  “I think it’s turning out exactly as I expected,” Knell responded. “You didn’t think a road trip with Wren was going to be fun did you?”

  “No,” he responded. “But I…” he stammered. “I guess I never really thought of it like that. But I still don’t like this whole thing.” He ran his hands through his hair and rubbed the black soot off on his pants.

  Hunlok shook his head and lowered himself down to lying on the ground. “We’ve got to change the way we’re approaching this whole thing. It’s a business deal, that’s it. Get in get it done and get out.”

  “Just like visits to grandma’s house, eh Knell?” Sarta chimed in. “Only Kinow’s food is better.”

  Knell reached over and playfully swatted her sister. “You are a brat! You know that?”

  Liden interrupted the sisters with a serious question that had been on his mind ever since Wren had informed them of the trip to Merryn. “What side of this war do you think Wren is on?”

  “What do you mean?” Hunlok asked. He didn’t raise his head from the ground, and Liden could tell he was fighting sleep just to ask the question.

  “He’s friends with a Merrynian soldier, he attacked a Kresthinian army camp, he runs secret missions along the border.” He was happy that Debir and Knell were now sitting up and seemed a bit more engaged in the conversation. “Do we even know what nation he’s part of?”

  Debir pulled out a piece of clothing Wren had given him and held it up in the fading light. “We know a little bit about his loyalty,” he began. “He’s loyal to his wealth. It seems that’s all he really cares about is doing jobs that will make him some gold coins.”

  “I guess that’s why we’re here,” Knell agreed in a hushed whisper so nobody outside the tent could hear her. “We’ll help him make some money doing something to the Kingdom of Merryn. If he had a job doing something nefarious in the south, would he grab a band of kids from the north to help him? Who knows?”

  As he listened, his concerns over Wren deepened. What were they supposed to do when the job was done? They assumed he would bring them back to their country, but he had never actually said that. “If he’s in it for the money and he doesn’t care who he hurts, we need to take extra care to watch out for each other. Maybe even Sarta,” he added with a wink.

  “Hey,” she protested from the ground.

  “Go to sleep. It’s hard enough trying to sleep on the ground without having to ignore a giddy group of whining kids to boot.” From right outside their tent, Wren’s stern voice startled them and they instinctively all threw themselves to the ground like a group of toddlers when their parent found them awake after they were put to bed.

  As he closed his eyes to get some rest, Liden couldn’t help but wonder what kind of a person he had gotten them tangled up with. Was Debir right about making this trip? This cold, calculating opportunist cared only for wealth and comfort. What would happen if it ever came down to a decision of saving one of them, or looking out for himself? Those were the thoughts that plagued his mind as he fell into an uncomfortable sleep.

  The next two weeks were spent bobbing up and down in the back of a wagon as they went further into Merryn. When they came across a Merrynian soldier, Wren and Kinow did all the talking and threw a coin or two his way when needed, but they hadn’t seen any real patrols in a couple of days, and from what Wren said, they were likely going to be largely alone on this road from now until they reached the city of Dreshire.

  Chapter 16

  A few miles before they reached Dreshire, Kinow covered the teenagers in the back of the wagon so they wouldn’t be seen. Wren could hear Liden mumbling something about dying of heat exhaustion under layers of rugs and straw, but he let it go. He just needed to keep the youngsters quiet until they reached his house in Dreshire. While Kinow worked in the back, Wren kept his eyes on the raven, which was off in the distance, flying ahead and looking for food.

  “We’re set,” Kinow said after several minutes. Wren waited until the man sat down and then got the wagon rolling again.

  The soft, mild rocking motion as the wagon swayed gently side to side as the wheels rolled over the smooth road soothed the assassin. If there was one thing the Kingdom of Merryn did right, it was roads. Pot holes and ruts were almost never found along the major roadways, and even the smaller roads were kept up in near-perfect condition within a few miles of each city. Of course, with the ongoing war Wren suspected that the maintenance crews worked more to prevent military wagons and caravans from getting damaged than anything else, but he still enjoyed the end result.

  He smiled and let out a contended sigh.

  “Nice day for a wagon ride,” Kinow cut in, breaking the peaceful silence. “You know, my father spoke very highly of you.”

  “Did he now?”

  “It’s only too bad that he won’t be there to greet you himself.”

  “Still, we have what he wanted.” Wren said as he nodded to the bag.

  Kinow jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “You don’t need a group of runaways though, why’d you pick them up?”

  “I told you when we met on the road,” Wren answered.

  “Yeah, but I don’t believe you. A group of teenagers paid you to take them northward, why would they do that?”

  Wren smiled. “It’s a bit odd, I’ll give you that.”

  Kinow waited a few moments for additional explanation, but Wren didn’t say anything. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

  Wren shook his head. “It’s better you forget the whole thing. All you need to know is I’m delivering the item requested. Beyond that, as far as you’re concerned there is no one else here.”

  “You paid me enough for that,” Kinow said. “Still, if they’re staying in Dreshire, I should be let in on the details.”

  The assassin shook his head again. “That’s not how I work.”

  Kinow shrugged and folded his arms. “Well, if my father liked you, then I like you,” he said after a minute.

  “I’m sure the gold doesn’t hurt either,” Wren said with a laugh.

  “No, it certainly doesn’t!” Kinow bellowed. He then looked up and pointed at the raven circling above the trees. “If you won’t tell me about them, then tell me about the bird. How did you train it? Do you have magic?”

  Wren shifted in his seat and grimaced. “No, I don’t have magic.”

  Kinow frowned. He must have sensed Wren’s discomfort. “Didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Can’t tell you about the raven. It’s a trade secret,” Wren said, changing the focus. “What I can say, is the bird is worth ten of each of them,” he said as he thumbed toward the back of the wagon.

  “Ha!” Kinow slapped his knee. “So they do have something they’re supposed to do for you.”

  Wren shot Kinow a sidelong glance.

  The rest of the journey to Dreshire was quiet. When they arrived at the outer wall, which was only a four foot tall border of stone with four guards protecting the open entrance, they handed their papers over to the guards for inspection. The guards walked around the back of the wagon, checking first underneath the wagon itself and then giving the rugs a good shake. Then they handed the papers back to Wren.

  “Glad to see you made it back from Astyr in one piece,” one of them said. “Some merchants never end up coming back once they leave Merryn and mingle with those barbaric Kresthins down south.

  Wren smiled. “I have my ways. Besides,” he said with a sweep of his arm. “Who would want to hurt a man s
elling rugs?”

  The guards laughed and waved him through. They might have checked the wagon more thoroughly, but Kinow had grown up in Dreshire, and he was well enough known that his presence afforded Wren a bit of breathing room.

  They passed by a few shops and houses, and then Wren stopped the wagon.

  “Until tomorrow?” Kinow said.

  Wren nodded. “As planned,” he answered. Kinow hopped down and smacked the side of the wagon as Wren pulled away. He drove for another six minutes before pulling around to a tall, narrow house on the end of a residential row. The building was three stories tall, with the second story jutting out over the first and the third jettying out farther still. He pulled the wagon around the back, where a single-stall, covered stable was waiting for him. He jumped down from the wagon and opened the gate, then drove the wagon in and closed the gate once more.

  It took several minutes to unbury the others. Their faces were sticky with sweat and matted hair, and they nearly gasped for breath once they were free, but they remained quiet. Wren led them to the door and then checked his locks before opening it. Once they were inside he showed them to the kitchen.

  “There are oranges in the fruit bowl. Help yourselves while I take care of the horse.”

  They hardly voiced their thanks before they each rushed the bowl, nearly knocking it over in their haste to get at the fruit. Wren’s first instinct was to scold them, but he just waved at them dismissively and then went back out to the stable. He unhitched the horse and got it ready to be settled in for the night, then he went back inside the house and locked the door behind him.

  He lit a candle and carried it into the kitchen. “We have a long day ahead of ourselves tomorrow,” Wren said.

  Debir looked up from his half-eaten orange and stopped chewing. “Waf we doin?”

  “Don’t speak with your mouth full, it’s rude,” Wren said. “Have some self-respect.”

  Knell set her orange peel down and turned to face Wren. “What are we supposed to do, more acrobatics?”