The Warrior's Bane (War for the Quarterstar Shards Book 1)

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The Warrior's Bane (War for the Quarterstar Shards Book 1) Page 22

by David L. McDaniel


  After searching the room, and finding nothing but lint balls, he finished dressing and charged downstairs to find the innkeeper.

  An old and weathered bald man with a gray beard was behind the counter washing mugs. Kunther ran past him and to the sword rack where he had left Straight Edge. As Kunther had feared, he reached the rack and found it empty. Now furious, he raced back to the bar.

  “Where is my sword? I have been robbed! Where is the innkeeper?”

  “Whoa! Slow down there, young man,” the old man exclaimed. “I’m the innkeeper and what is this talk of a sword and of being robbed?”

  Kunther, still red eyed with fury, spoke in haste.

  “My sword is gone! My money pouch is gone as well! I was told to place my sword in that rack against the wall. Then, when I woke up this morning, I find that my money pouch is gone and a different innkeeper is running the bar.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you are talking about. I am the innkeeper and have been since this building was built.”

  “Then you should help me,” Kunther demanded. “Why is that?” the innkeeper asked. He was starting to get a little angry with the young man giving him orders. “You come in here last night, take a key, and leave a copper for the room. Why should you get service, when a room costs five copper pieces, not one! You should have...”

  “I did pay five copper for the room!” Kunther objected, cutting the man off. “And then I paid five copper for the horse boarding, and I even gave the man who I thought was the innkeeper two silver for his trouble. If you are the innkeeper, then who was the man that sold me the room last night?”

  The innkeeper smiled.

  “It could’ve been anybody. Every night at dusk, I go across the street, have a nice dinner, and bath. I know everyone in Hollenwood, and I am a respected old man, so I just leave my inn open for the customers and they respect my inn. While I am away, they watch it for me. Customers often simply leave their money for what they use or drink.”

  “Then who sold me the room and board?” Kunther repeated impatiently.

  “You damn kid! I said it could’ve been anybody. What did he look like?” he asked no longer too friendly.

  “Middle aged man, with a light beard, dark hair, and tall.”

  “That fits a lot of men in Hollenwood, boy. You’ve got to do a lot better than that. Any scars maybe?”

  “No,” Kunther said without spirit and frustrated.

  “Well, there are a lot of travelers coming through here. Maybe you just got taken.”

  “Is that all you can say? ‘Maybe I got taken,’ and drop it there!” Kunther exclaimed.

  He placed both hands on top of his head, now completely uncertain how he was going to make his way to Daevanwood.

  “What else can I do? Until you can tell me who it is, or what he looks like, I can’t help you.” The innkeeper paused, looked to Kunther with a half smile and continued. “I tell you what. You can have the room you had last night free. Here is a copper back.”

  The innkeeper reached in his pocket, set a single copper piece on the counter and looked at Kunther as it rolled on the counter and then spun to a stop.

  “But I gave ten copper, and two silver!”

  “Not to me, you didn’t. And did you say something about a horse and stable?”

  “Yes, my horse. Where is she? The innkeeper, or whoever he was, was supposed to board him up in your stable out back.”

  The old man began to laugh and walked over to his stool and sat down, pulled out a pipe, packed it with tobacco and lit it. He looked over at Kunther, smiling while he puffed and exhaled.

  “I am sorry, young man, but I don’t have a stable out back. The closest stable is up the road a little,” he said, pointing to his right.

  Kunther became furious. He could not believe his ears. Embarrassed and even more frustrated, he ran outside and through an alley to the back of the inn to verify what the old man had said. When he reached the back, he only saw garbage carts, trash, dirty rotting food and hundreds of flies. He stood staring in disbelief and felt totally lost and alone.

  “What now?” he asked himself. He had no money, save a copper piece that couldn’t buy him a dry sock. He had no sword and no more food. His friends could be dying right now and he was in a small village suckered and beat.

  The innkeeper had told him of the stable up the road. At least that much seemed to be true, as that was the only point consistent from last night and this morning. But what could he do now? Last night he’d been told that the old man was not a happy man. Or was that another lie to discourage him from going there?

  Kunther watched the flies swarm the garbage and thought of an idea. It seemed to him to be his only option. A dangerous option, and not one he would be proud of, or even one he would ever imagine himself doing, but in the end, it had to be done. He must find the stable and steal a horse. It would have to be as simple as that.

  He had never stolen anything before, but now out of desperation, he would be forced to do so. If only he could do it without being caught and trapped in a jail cell and left with absolutely no chance of helping his friends. He decided he would have to try. Otherwise, he would never get to Daevanwood at all.

  Revived with a little hope and a lot of adrenaline-motivated ambition, Kunther walked back to the main street and headed south towards the outer edge of the village. The walk down the main road during the late morning hour became interesting to him despite his other mixed emotions.

  The people were about and shopping the streets or tending to their daily chores. Men were on horses and carriages scuttling about up and down the road. Everyone seemed to have something important to do. That would be a good thing, he thought to himself. The last thing he wanted was to stand out in any way or look suspicious. Especially since he was about to do something deceitful. He knew he was already looking a bit suspicious from his obvious inexperience and his guilty conscience.

  When he reached the edge of the village, the number of people began to decrease and the only traffic he saw was a carriage or two leaving and entering the village. Oak trees bordered each side of the road out of the village which eventually led into the rest of the forested woods that bordered it. He stayed on the main road and walked on.

  He walked long enough to work up a sweat from the still warm Doreal season and the heat made him think of the Fifth of Doreal Harvest Celebration in Valewood just the week before. Life was so simple then. Before the horrible events of the last week, the hardest thing he had to worry about was getting to guard duty on time for Morlonn. Life was simple and exciting.

  He missed that way of life and he knew it would never be the same.

  Kunther looked up from his gloomy thoughts just in time see a rider on horseback who was in such a hurry he brushed past him and almost knocked him down. The rider never looked back. Kunther figured he was probably laughing spitefully to himself and he’d better pay more attention to his surroundings. He walked on and rounded the next corner the stables came in to view.

  They were in a large clearing within the woods. A huge long barn, as long as three regular size barns put together end to end, stood out amongst a dozen other out-buildings that were scattered around the large stable. Behind the stable were two round pens and in one of them were a dozen horses. Five men were working with the animals, training them perhaps, Kunther thought. Off to the left side of the barn was a grass trail that led to a beautiful large cottage surrounded by huge willow trees. Flowers of various colors grew in the scattered shade.

  He walked straight to the stables where he figured the horses would be kept. He hoped that everyone would be so busy that maybe he could walk in and simply ride back out. He knew the chances of tha
t were unlikely, but it didn’t hurt to hope.

  Approaching the stables, he noticed that the large doors were open and nobody was around, so he calmly walked inside, looking as non-conspicuous as he could so as not to attract any attention. The center aisle of the stable was clean, with finely groomed sand, and on each side of the aisle the horses were boarded in individual stalls. Half the stalls had horses occupying them and a few of the other stalls showed evidence that horses had recently occupied them. Whether they were in the corrals or out riding, he could not tell for sure.

  He made a quick inspection of the first few horses he saw and went over stood in front of the stable that held what looked like the youngest and fastest horse. A red mare with a white diamond between her eyes looked at him cautiously as he lifted the latch and walked in the stall.

  “Easy, girl,” Kunther reassured the horse. He looked around and found a bit hanging on the wall in the corner. He started to grab the bit and reins when he heard someone walk into the building.

  Looking through a crack in the wood, he saw two men, one an older man, the other about the same age as himself. The older man, short and gray haired with a hard face and leathery skin, went to an empty stable, opened the door and grabbed a bit and reins. He gave it to the younger man and motioned him to go back outside with it.

  “Is this all I need?” he asked, puzzled.

  “What else do you want, you fool? Just go!” the old man responded impatiently.

  The younger man left. The older man stood looking around the stalls for a minute as if he knew Kunther was there, but shortly he turned and left.

  Kunther, relieved, went back to the horse.

  “Thank you for being quiet,” Kunther whispered to the horse as he petted her nose. The horse flinched at his touch and Kunther moved slowly closer to the horse with the bit and reins.

  “Okay, girl. Easy now.”

  Kunther put the bit in the horse’s mouth and dropped the reins to the ground. The horse made no fuss.

  “Now, to get out of here,” Kunther said and he exhaled to help relieve his tension.

  He turned around, checked through the crack, and saw no one, so he quietly lifted the latch of the door. He went out to the doorway of the barn and looked in both directions. To the right he saw the corrals where everyone was working. To the left side he saw the oak woods and the road where he came from.

  “All clear,” Kunther said in quiet, but anxious anticipation and he went back to the stall, opened the gate wide and stood beside the horse, petting her.

  “Okay, girl are you ready?” Kunther whispered, his hand on her neck. He grabbed the far side of her neck and pulled himself on top of the horse’s back.

  “Let’s go!” he commanded, excited once he had settled himself comfortably on top.

  The horse began to walk out of the stalls. Kunther turned her towards the outside of the stable to the road leading to the oak woods. The horse had only taken three steps outside when the old man came walking back toward the stable.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” he yelled.

  Kunther froze, not knowing now what to say or do.

  “Come, Jessupi,” the old man commanded in a firm but soft voice.

  Kunther felt his adrenalin begin to flow and with a burst of energy, he kicked the horse and yelled, “Let’s go!”

  The horse did nothing. Then she started walking calmly towards the old man.

  “Good girl, Jessupi. What are you doing with my horse?”

  Kunther began to sweat. Once again he did not like his situation.

  “I am looking for a job,” was the only answer Kunther could think of. “So you want a job, do you? How do you explain that you are on my horse right now without my permission?”

  Kunther said nothing and his mind raced for an answer.

  “I was hoping to ride out to you and impress you with my riding skills. I learned them on my father’s farm,” was the best he could come up with.

  Kunther saw the old man’s face relax a little and he felt impressed with himself that he was doing this well under the intense pressure of the situation.

  “First off, you look like you are stealing my horse. You might get your ass beat instead of a job, pulling a stunt like that on my ranch. Besides, you won’t impress me by riding the tamest horse I own. Get down from there. If you want a job, I’ll give you one. I can always use a good, strong young hand, even one as dumb as you. What is your name anyways?”

  “Kunther,” Kunther said as he dismounted the horse and handed the reins to the man.

  “Don’t give them to me. That’s your job now. Take her back and brush her down.”

  “Brush her down? But I didn’t ride her.”

  “First rule of being in my employ, do as I say and don’t give me any lip!” the man said and looked into Kunther’s eyes. Beyond some fear and intimidation, Kunther saw a hardness in the man’s eyes that showed years of hard work and hard times, but he did give off an air of compassion.

  “When you are finished, meet me at the corrals. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be watching you. Also, just so you know, that horse won’t leave the ranch without me. Just in case you really are a thief. Don’t even try, I will hang you up by your toes, and don’t doubt me. I have done it before.”

  Kunther walked the horse back to the stable, wondering if the horse could really be as trained as the man claimed. She did come right to the man when he called, even when Kunther had kicked the horse to ride past the man.

  Kunther decided not to take any chances, not now at least. Tonight he would try something else when the dark of night would act as a better cover. He did have to hurry, though. He had to get to Daevanwood soon and he had not anticipated this delay. Time, he knew, was not a luxury he had. He took the bit and reins off and hung them back on the wall, grabbed the brush and gave the horse a quick brush down. When he was finished, he left the stable, locked the latch behind him, and walked out to the corral.

  He saw the same men that were there when he had first arrived at the ranch. Two men led horses by ropes, trotting them gracefully in circles within the small corral. In the large corral, the three other men were riding their horses in between barrels. Another man was on the ground, yelling commands, and in the third corral, the old man lunged a black pony.

  Kunther walked to the man and greeted him with a nod of acknowledgment.

  “I want you to show me your riding skills with this horse,” the man said, pointing to the horse in front of him. “He is not yet fully trained, but I think he may yet be the best horse I have,” he paused to watch Kunther’s reaction, but he only saw a blank face waiting for further instruction. “Well, with good training, he can be the best. Now, how well you ride will determine if I will put you in charge of this horse or not. Understood?”

  “Yes,” Kunther said and wondered if he could ride this horse well enough to impress the man. He had been around horses all his life, but he had never learned any fancy riding skills like what he had seen Tharn do, or even what some of the soldiers did when he had seen them riding.

  He began to doubt what simple skills he did have. All he knew how to do was to trail ride.

  Kunther realized that he was over-thinking his whole situation. It did not matter if he got the job or not. In the end, all he wanted was a horse, and this pony might just do the trick. He just had to get it out of the corral and run from there. “Now just climb on the fence and jump on the horse. I’ll hold the reins and then give them to you when you get on him and are settled,” the old man instructed.

  Kunther climbed on the fence while the old man cinched a rope around the horse’s neck. He held the reins from the other side of the fence. Once Kunthe
r was in place, the old man tossed the reins over the horse’s head so that Kunther could grab them. The horse jerked backwards a little as Kunther slipped his legs over the horse and grabbed the reins. The horse began to jump and buck.

  The rope tightened in the old man’s hand, but after a few tugs the cinch came loose and the hose took advantage of the open corral and started jumping and bucking wildly.

  Kunther pulled back on the reins, but it did not make any difference and it did not take long for him to lose his balance. He dropped the reins, grabbed the horse’s neck with both arms and hung on as the horse continued to kick and buck with all of its strength. He rode for a few more seconds, just holding on, but he was able to glance past the horse’s head just long enough to see the men crowding around the corral. They were all laughing at the spectacle.

  In that moment of lost concentration, Kunther’s nose met the back of the horse’s head as it came up during one of his kicks. Kunther felt pain searing past his eyes up into the top of his head. He began to pass out and he felt blood drip to his upper lip.

  Barely keeping his consciousness, he fell head first to the ground stretching out his arms in front of him to break his fall. His left hand hit the ground first, but the momentum of his wild fall twisted his wrist and he fell onto his right shoulder, knocking his head to the dirt.

  Kunther lay in pain as he stared at the dirt. Beyond he saw the corral fence in the distance and the horse running towards it and out the gate. His wrist began to hurt with a sharp burning pain and he could feel it beginning to swell. His head ached and he could feel the dirt sticking to the blood on his face.

  Just in the distance, barely within his sight, he could hear the old man and the others laughing. “Get out of my face, horse thief!” the old man said as he walked towards Kunther.

  “My wrist. I think it is broke,” Kunther said as he tried to breathe and speak at the same time. He could feel his chest was also tender and he found the whole experience far too painful to ever try again.

  “Small punishment for trying to steal my horse. Get this boy out of here!” the old man said to two of his workers.

 

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