Cat turned to regard the lushly dressed graybeard. “Entry fee? But privateers in the employ of the Protectorate are charged nay such fees!”
The taxman pointed to indicate each of them in turn. “You have shown me your writ of employ, but I have not seen one from the others. My supervisors make it very clear on which parties I can and can’t accept taxes. The gnome looks the part of a privateer as well, therefore I can accept him in free just by the weight of your writ, young lady. However, we have had problems with local lads tagging along with adventuring groups just to get into town free and drink themselves to excess in our taverns. This is not welcomed by the fathers or the rest of the community. These two look the part of farmer lads, and unless they have writs as well they must pay a traveler’s fee of only a copper each. That is standard fare for most that enter the gates.”
Katressa did not argue, instead she nodded and started fishing in her own pouch for the change needed. Trestan and Petrow tried to move quickly to pay for themselves, but the half-elf proved faster. The taxman nodded his satisfaction. They were allowed to head into town as he scrawled the new total into the ledger. The companions left the guardhouse behind as they entered the fringes of the town. Trestan looked down at his own ragged and dirty clothes as they walked. He was used to being looked down upon for all of his life. It amazed him that the two poor boys in the group had to pay to get into town, as opposed to getting left outside with the goblins, yet the rich members of the group were allowed in with few questions asked.
Several minutes later they were sitting and eating a meal under the pavilion tent of a farmers’ market. There wasn’t much of a selection that early in the growing season, but it was a good change from the bland food they had on the road. It gave them a chance to sit and discuss their options. Trestan was taking in the sights of the large town, but the urgency of their quest pushed at the back of his mind. He was eager to hear what Cat’s suggestion, though she was interrupted and annoyed by their gnome companion. Somehow the gnome went from talking about the foot sores on the two young men, into a talk about various ugly battle wounds he had seen. It seemed an unfitting subject to discuss over food. It also served to scare Petrow a bit, though he tried hard to ignore to the gnome.
Trestan finally interrupted before Cat said anything rash, “I think we need to decide our next move. We have to ask around a bit right? Maybe someone else has seen anything out of the ordinary.”
Petrow nodded, “There is the matter of our hometown guards. Are they still around or did they find any clues?”
Cat thought it over. “We do need to ask around, though if we tarry too long we may lose their trail anyway. We will need to split up to cover more ground faster. I figure the Eagle’s Nest would be a good meeting spot, since it would be ridiculous of them to go around that place again.”
Mel looked at Cat. “What would you like me to do?”
Trestan imagined Cat had been waiting for that moment all day. The half-elf answered, “You can head over to the south gate first and find out if the Troutbrook guards left town by that route or not. See if the guards at that gate had a clue where the armsmen were going. Find out if the other party headed that way, and if they haven’t, ask around at the pubs and other public places. We’ll meet at the Eagle’s Nest, or leave a message there if either of us finds anything.”
Mel nodded eagerly, “I sure can do that, nay problem. Just start a conversation and work some questions into it somehow.” At this, the two young men watched Cat roll her eyes. Certainly she had just unleashed a talkative gnome into an unsuspecting town. Mel continued, “What will you do?”
Cat answered, “Find these two young men some new shoes, and maybe some other clothing as well. They are embarking to rescue a lady of nobility, so they should look the part. Or, if the worst happens, be well dressed for their funeral.”
Trestan and Petrow had both expressed smiles at the idea of new tunics and trousers. That excitement was short lived as they realized Cat was serious about the possibility of them being buried in their new clothes. Cat continued, “The Eagle’s Nest has some rooms sizeable for four people if someone is willing to pay their price, and I am prepared to do so. Hopefully one is available. We will secure a room there and leave your name with the tavern keeper. I think formal baths may have to wait, but we can wash up a bit before we venture out again. A trip around the merchants will also give us a chance to garner information.”
* * * * *
After parting ways with the gnome sorcerer, the other three went to the inn and tried to procure a room. Cat admitted Mel was starting to irritate her with his constant talking and his varied but useless subjects. Upon arriving at the inn they discovered, to Cat’s delight, there was a large room available for the night. Many unlucky travelers might encounter only inns that have nothing more than a common sleeping room with bunks available, requiring light sleeping to avoid waking up with all valuables missing. The companions didn’t stay long enough for any drinks or food. They rented the room and washed their hands, feet and faces clean of roadside dirt. They opened the shutters to observe a breathtaking view of the lands below the high ridge. The lake was spotted well below their window, with a wide river meandering out through the lowlands and out to the sea. They could not see the waterfall from their window, just the mist coming from it as it plunged down. The mist blew back towards the top of the ridge at times, making buildings too close to the ridge damp and full of mildew. They could hear a distant roar from the thundering falls. Looking downward, they also spotted numerous large ships in the lake below the falls. After standing there and reflecting the beauty of it, for the two young humans had never seen such a spectacle, they pulled away from the window to get on with their plans. There was a lock on the room door, but Cat advised they leave nothing valuable behind while they were out. She informed them that many thieves could make a living “investigating” what adventurers leave in their rooms.
The three of them visited merchant after merchant. Some vendors were in rented spots in open markets, hawking wares from bulging carts; others were established inside large buildings. The inner hub of the town contained the biggest market area, surrounded by old, inner walls. Trestan and Petrow were amazed and flattered at the amount of gold Cat was willing to spend. She not only gave them a fair amount of coins, but also spent several silvers towards information that seemed to yield nothing in regards to the other adventuring party. They did find out that the guards from Troutbrook rode southwards out of the town gates that morning. While this news discouraged the companions, the person who had given them the information had no clue as to what the guards had been doing, and thus if they had any trail on their prey.
Cat insisted on doing the talking and bribing. While she questioned, Trestan and Petrow were free to set their minds to shopping. They soon focused on little else, as if they were children let loose in a candy store. For both, shopping for clothes was not commonly done unless they needed to or had the extra cash. A chest full of clothes would have been a luxury for either one. They tried forestalling Cat’s attempts at charity, but she pushed gold into their hands while they stood among the nicest wardrobes they had ever seen. Leather vests and boots, metal studded coats, velvet shirts, silks from Tariyka and rings of gold with exquisite designs conspired to melt their resolve. Trestan and Petrow held on to some frugality, passing up some wondrous clothes Cat offered to buy. They walked down long lines of merchant stalls displaying the best that the local tradesmen had to offer. All the while, Cat chatted and dug up information in the background, while the two young men were laughing as they looked at items.
Trestan searched for a sturdy leather belt to replace the length of rope he was using. Petrow looked over shoes and boots to comfort his weary feet. Soon both purchased those items and gawked at the next luxury. When they returned to denying Cat’s generosity, she assured them it wasn’t hurting her purse at all. She often bought new clothes just as they were doing, as adventures wore down her old garments a
nd new coins came her way after the hard work. Even as they shopped, the half-elf stopped to purchase a hair clasp. As she stated, it was too much time and effort to mess with her hairstyle when she often wore a helmet, so wearing hair clasps and jewelry were easy options. Although Cat never seemed to lose focus on their mission, the young men relaxed and indulged themselves. They didn’t know it, but that in itself made Cat smile in return. Helping these two men buy the best outfits they had ever owned, talking and laughing as they did, was medicine for Katressa’s own soul. She could only pray the two youths wouldn’t die in those clothes, but if so then at least they were dressed well. Trestan and Petrow lived for the moment, buying things they couldn’t afford before, and laughing at the items they decided not to buy.
“Good gods, Petrow,” exclaimed Trestan, “You can buy several good shirts and another pair of shoes for the price of that coat! Summer is coming, and you want to wear that?”
Petrow held the colorful coat up and inspected it. “I’m just looking and imagining. It would be nice to wear when I go out and chop firewood in the winter months.”
The young smith looked over the other garments that Petrow had bought and one other set he considered buying. “How many colors have you accumulated in one outfit anyhow? In what time of the season do orange, light green, tan, blue and dark red actually look good when arranged like that?”
“It’s better than the drab outfits I’ve been wearing. It’s practical too; this has an abundance of pockets.” Petrow took a last look at the coat, sighed, and returned it to the merchant. “I see what you mean. Its nothing I need, but it looks good.”
Cat slid up next to them, appearing quietly by their sides like she often did. “You two picked out some good items. Do you have everything you need? Good shirts? New packs?”
Trestan hefted the leather backpack that replaced his burlap bag. Inside were more trousers, shirts and other garments. He still wore his old shoes, though a new pair was tied to his pack. Petrow carried at least as many items as Trestan did; yet his were more elaborate or excessive. Petrow had gone for the more stunning colors, plentiful decorations, lacy shirtsleeves, even colorful trim on the pants and vest. They stood together going over what they had bought, even as the waning sunlight painted the clouds in evening shades. They pulled the edges of clothing out of their packs to let their generous companion see the different colors and nice materials. They had both expended what they had considered to be a lot of silver and gold in their eyes; though if Cat minded she did not show it. The half-elf must have wanted it, as she had pushed the coins right into their hands at every turn.
She listened to their excitement and looked at their equipment as they described it. They shared a laugh over some of the selections, particularly Petrow’s. When they were done, she posed one question. “What are you missing?”
The young men of Troutbrook looked to her and then to themselves for an answer. Both tallied their equipment in their minds, thinking if they had forgotten anything of importance. Petrow ventured a guess after some thought. “Well, we could stock up on more rations. Oh! I wanted to get my own mug! There was a tent over by the wall there selling some with nice decorations.”
Trestan shook his head. “I don’t think that is what she meant. I have everything I could ever have wanted on me right now. I would be a fashionable figure walking down the streets of my hometown with these garments.”
Katressa Bilil nodded her agreement, “You would make a fine, handsome figure on the streets of your hometown…but you are not heading to a fanciful affair. You may be going into more battles, in your rescue of someone in distress. Everything you could have wanted as a smith or laborer you might have, but to play the part of a warrior, you need protection.”
The half-elf allowed that thought to sink into the heads of her two human companions. She then pointed over one street, towards the sound of a ringing hammer and the heat of a forge’s fire. “We need to find you some good leather armor at the very least. You might consider some metal chain; though I assure you as light as it might feel while standing around it actually tends to get quite heavy on a long walk.”
Trestan had tried on metal armor at his father’s smithy. Petrow had even modeled a suit or two. Both knew how to don it, though neither had ever worn it for anything other than modeling it for Hebden Karok. Now they both moved to pick out a suit of armor that would be their own protection against the battles that might follow.
* * * * *
Katressa spent the extra coin to have a tub pulled into their private room to take her bath there. Petrow and Trestan bathed in a common bathing room on the first floor of the inn. A serving boy brought warmed water and soap. Trestan used a small mirror to shave the stubble on his cheeks. Humble as his mustache was, he took some vanity in trimming around it and trying to make it look better. Both men eagerly soaked their suffering feet. Eventually, Cat sent word she was done with her bath and that the rented room was available. Petrow finished his quick bath, donned a towel and disappeared up the private stairs connecting the bath room to the upstairs beds. The young man was eager to wear one of his new outfits for dinner. Trestan spent longer in the bath water. He had many thoughts from his journey on the road, and so he paused to relax and sort them out.
He thought back to the images of places he had passed during the last two days. Despite the task before them and the hard pace they followed, there had been an abundance of wonderful landscapes to silently admire. The planting season offered a visual treat, as blooming flowers and trees dominated vast meadows. Flower petals splashed color all over the landscape. Deer and other animals frolicked with young in the tall grass. Shallow creeks swelled with water from the rains earlier that month. Occasionally they had seen fish in those streams. If they had been there for any other reason they might have scrounged up a pole and started fishing, as would be Troutbrook-folk tradition. In other circumstances, it would have been an unquestionably beautiful trip.
As Trestan thought back to those scenic places, he tried to imagine them from Lady Shauntay’s eyes. She would not have been able to enjoy any of it. He tried to imagine her being dragged or carried across the same terrain. He could picture the soles of her feet bloody, or her arms bruised from restraints. Her eyes might have even been closed to shut away the nightmare around her, while she hoped for a rescue. His heart went out to her plight, for if anything he felt further away from helping her than he had in Troutbrook.
He thought back to every resting point along the road, when he could lay his head down to rest and pause the long walk. He remembered the clearing they had discovered which would have made a lovely, secluded campsite…had it not been occupied by a band of ruffians. Even as he remembered the quiet moments on the road, his mind brought forth images of the torment Lady Shauntay must have endured. Like him, she would forever see the face of a dear friend frozen in death. Trestan could only assume she saw Sahbin as a good friend, such as he viewed Sir Wilhelm. The young man often found the image of his dead mentor’s face lingering on his thoughts. He could only imagine how Lady Shauntay felt after losing Sahbin in such a terrible way. Trestan remembered the images of the young noblewoman, tied and bound, being thrown across the minotaur’s shoulder. He imagined being held so closely by such a foul smelling beast as it ran through the dark night. Even when she walked, she must have been dragged along at a fast pace, without a gnomish salve to heal her feet. Trestan sat staring at the far wall, alone in his thoughts.
Had she been beaten?
Had she been…raped?
The young smith almost cried at the thought. Despite their pursuit, the young noble had been at the mercy of her captors for most of two days. Had it really been only two days? Katressa had ridden into town on the 24th of Florum. The fight on the street had been at a point when Nirahha was in the pinnacle of the night sky, signifying midnight. On the 25th of Florum they walked until finding the gnome’s camp. Today, the 26th day of the month, they fought the goblins and eventually arrived in Bar
kan’s Crossing. So much had happened in so little time.
During much of the walk, when Trestan had not spoken, his mind traveled to the next hill or turn. He imagined they would reach it and see their captors at a vulnerable moment. Sometimes he saw the other adventurers as resting by the roadside, or camped in a tent under nightfall. Maybe caught unprepared, and he dreamed of charging in with the sword of his mentor. Trestan would imagine the battle before him, as Cat’s bolts sped past his head to hit a vital spot on the minotaur. The young smith would swing a blow to behead the dark cleric that had paralyzed him. He imagined completing the turn, and coming face to face with the elven wizard. Yelling, “For Abriana and Jareth”, he would stab through the heart. Revwar would not thank his gods; he would merely die cursing on the end of the sharp elvish blade. Then Trestan imagined a grateful lady of noble blood, running to him and kissing her hero. Trestan replayed the battle at least five different ways and with five different endings, but the final kiss remained in each outcome. The way Trestan remembered many good ballads, all good stories ended with the kiss of a lovely lady.
Yet, while on the road, every turn and valley did not yield the opposing band. Miles went by and events transpired to show him how inexperienced he really was. The past two days he had looked up to Cat as his new mentor and instructor, as well as his friend. The half-elf was developing a bond with them. He could see it in her eyes when she tried to hide her fears of what would happen to him and Petrow if they actually fought that band. Trestan and his friend had stumbled along bravely, yet also foolishly. They had charged the clearing without thinking, and Trestan could still feel a phantom pain in his foot where he had stepped on the sharp object during the goblin fight. Such thoughts forced Trestan to think realistically. He had to admit courage alone did not make the hero. He had muscles, and stamina, yet that was not enough to face the minotaur. The young man felt willing to use a deadly weapon to defend the lady, but he did not believe he could wield it as effectively as was needed. Alone, he could do nothing to help the lady and likely would just get himself killed.
The Earthrin Stones 1 of 3: Inheritance of a Sword and a Path Page 15