The short stay had allowed Keenan's wounds to completely heal after applying a balm from one of the town's apothecaries. He still had scars, of course, but he didn't limp anymore and his left arm felt like new.
He had managed to make both of them new boots for the next leg of their journey, working with the skins of animals Sayla had caught on the way to the capital and that he had kept for that specific use instead of selling them. Sandals were good for the plains, not for the mountains ahead.
He was very proud of Sayla's victory that had made them rich for now. He had never seen golden coins before and when they counted them that night at a crossroads inn, they saw there were ten of them in the small purse. Both were afraid to lose them, so Sayla hid the purse under her chemise by adding a leather thong that allowed her to hang it around her neck.
They kept walking on an unpaved road along the river that should lead them to the next town. Sometimes couriers or mounted messengers passed them in one direction or the other, sometimes it was wagons or carts.
They sometimes went off the road to hunt, but usually found either village inns or farms to spend the night in, and if they had furs or their skills to trade, they avoided using the gold coins.
"We should change them," Keenan said, thoughtful. "As soon as we reach the next town."
"One at the time," Sayla added. "And in different places, so they won't know how many we have."
"You're smart, my Wonder Girl," he said, impressed. She giggled.
She never tried the wings on. The more the southern mountain complex approached, the more nervous she became.
Keenan hoped that Eagle's wings would last until she used them to climb the Central Massif.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They followed the river for a few days, then found hills of vineyards with small villages interspersed among them. Keenan's shoemaker's skills helped the barefooted peasants to get themselves new sandals and the two travelers free food and shelter.
And then they reached another town not far from another river. Ilitan was small, with wooden walls and several large gates. It was built around two main roads and it was the border of the Blackmore Kingdom.
Beyond was no-man's land, or so they said. The locals were friendly and told them that the town was famous for its thriving nightlife and talented street performers. They also suggested they found company to keep going, or headed back north after spending some time in the local tannery.
The economy was based on trading, especially furs, so the two youths were right in their alley to sell their goods. The streets smelled like flowers and the houses generally had attics. They found a tavern near a busy marketplace, but the town looked too small to handle the gold coins and exchange them with more manageable coppers and silvers. Even though they were leaving the kingdom, they were certain that gold coins could be exchanged anywhere.
The Hearty Watchman was large, decently clean and of overall good quality. The innkeeper gave them the last available room, one of the small ones, because there was some gathering in town and they were lucky to even find a place to sleep. He also made comments about the fact that they probably didn't mind sharing a small room with a small bed, but Sayla ignored him and asked if there were public baths in town.
After selling the skins and furs they had gathered on the way, having smaller coins in their pockets, they went to the public baths, again renting a small private room with a big bathtub instead of using the common rooms.
They went back for dinner at the Hearty Watchman. The main room was now filled with a loud and cheerful crowd with many shady characters. Burly, threatening bouncers kept an eye on the crowd that for now seemed mostly sober.
The food was decent and all that was left was a good night's sleep. Sayla curled up against Keenan and promptly fell asleep as soon as he blew out the candle.
***
Sayla and Keenan couldn't find other travelers headed out of the kingdom when they left Ilitan. Oral directions and their eyes showed there was a forest ahead, and the sea wasn't too far either. Since the roads had tolls even for pedestrians, Sayla and Keenan decided to go back to almost familiar territory by reaching the forest ahead of them.
Instead of oaks and birches, they found maples and beeches, but it was very close to what they had left at home. Broad-winged hawks, cardinals and woodpeckers chattered around them, helping Sayla not to get lost in the unknown forest, while owls watched over their sleep.
White-tailed deer, raccoons, opossums, porcupines and red foxes often crossed their paths, too smart to be trapped. Sayla was beginning to think she should try to shoot a deer, although afterward they'd have to save the meat. Keenan ate more than her, but he wouldn't eat a deer all by himself.
They set up camp in a clearing and she strung her bow to go hunting. She found a deer path and hid in the ferns, waiting. Eventually a couple came, headed for a nearby stream, and she shot the smaller female, killing it on the spot.
"Keenan!" she called.
He helped her to take the prey back to camp and prepare it. Soon the smell of cooked venison filled the clearing, arousing the curiosity of a family of hawks that perched on the branches to watch them.
The hawks weren't the only ones attracted by the roasting meat. Sayla was still turning the makeshift broach while Keenan had started cleaning the skin when four raggedy men emerged from the woods. They were bearded and dirty and openly armed with peasant weapons – a sickle, a dagger, a club and an axe – and came forward licking their lips in anticipation. One had lost an eye, another most of his teeth, but they closed in on the barbecue, salivating.
"Look what these children have caught!" one said.
"I'm sure it tastes as good as it smells," another added.
Sayla glared at them. She wasn't too keen on sharing her prey. But seeing Keenan stiffen, she understood they weren't beggars, but robbers. Luckily the purse of golden coins was well hidden against her chest.
All four sat around the fire, waiting for the meat to be done. Sayla pulled away and went closer to Keenan.
"Don't you happen to have some coins, besides this wonderful meal?" the one-eyed bandit asked.
"No, if we had coins, we wouldn't be hunting in the forest, would we?" Keenan answered bluntly. "We'd be staying at an inn on the road and sleeping on their bugged beds."
The men laughed out loud.
"I like this guy!" The one who was closer, slapped Keenan's back. "You certainly don't look rich, young man, what do you do?"
"I'm a tanner," he answered, showing the half-cleaned skin.
"And you travel all alone with your little brother?" One-eye shook his head. "Don't you know it's dangerous?"
"It's even more dangerous where we come from. We hope to reach the Central Massif where we have family."
"Well, good luck with that." The man smirked. "I think it's ready." He pointed at the fire.
Sayla rose and started cutting meat, distributing it to the men with her lips thinned and her brow furrowed. She wasn't going to tell them she was a girl and wondered how to get rid of them. What if the bandits followed them? Forced them to join the band?
She gave Keenan his part, still frowning with worry. They exchanged a quick glance, but neither knew what to do.
"Why don't you eat, boy?" One-eye asked.
"I have no appetite," she answered, curling up near Keenan.
"He has no appetite," the axe-holder mimicked her. "Boy, you're pretty, you look almost like a girl with that long hair. Do you even shave?"
"Not yet," Keenan said. "Leave him alone. You're eating our food. I think it's enough."
"I think not." A dagger touched Keenan's throat. Sayla saw his Adam's apple go up and down. "You have clean clothes we might use. And that bow. Yes, I think we'll take everything."
Sayla looked up. The birds had gone quiet, but the hawks were still there. There were actually two families now, watching from the beeches' branches. She screamed for help.
The raptors attacked at the same time she
drew her knife and stabbed the closest man. Keenan was surprised, but recovered quicker than the bandits, dropping the food and grabbing his own dagger.
Between beaks, talons and blades, the four bandits started shouting and ended up running away in the woods. Still panting, Sayla and Keenan looked at each other. She ended up trembling against him while the hawks slowly gathered around them.
"They're still running," one of the males said. "You're safe for now."
"Thank you." She gave them whatever was left of the deer while Keenan quickly packed their belongings. The bandits would soon stop running and come back with a vengeance. They'd better move camp quickly and try to lose them in the woods.
***
"Are you sure you don't want to fly a little?" Keenan asked, worried, as they emerged from the forest and found another unpaved road. The bandits had vanished, screaming that she was a witch who talked to birds, and hadn't tried to rob them again. To their left, the sea glittered in the sun a little further ahead.
"No, I'm fine," Sayla answered. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, first of all because you crumble to sleep every night, although we're covering a lot of miles every day," he said. "And then because you haven't taken out Eagle's wings since we left Xendaria, and I have no idea if they'll still hold you."
Sayla remembered that the ligaments and tendinous tissues that tied the feathers to the wing bones were now part of a dead body that should be decomposing. While Eagle was alive, her wings could take her whenever she wanted.
But now those same wings were dead limbs artificially worn by Sayla who had to move them by hand. She pursed her lips as a lump blocked her throat at the thought of her lost friend. Maybe she'd find another golden eagle at the Central Massif.
"You said you'd make them in leather," she told Keenan. "We could still glue her feathers on the leather. Or just leave them like bat wings."
"Bat wings are for demons," he said gravely. "You could find another pair of eagle wings. We already have the strappings ready."
"I wouldn't kill an eagle only to get myself wings! That would be what that awful sorcerer did to my mother!"
"I'm not saying you should kill an eagle, Sayla," he said patiently. "But we might find an old or dying one."
"Are you tired of carrying Eagle's wings?" she asked him.
"They're not heavy, I'm worried you've lost the will to fly, although I can't figure out why."
"I haven't." She gulped her pain and tried to gather her thoughts. "But I'm also growing insecure. I did meet a Sila with my eagle's wings and he didn't look shocked, but... I mean... I don't know."
She shook her head, defeated. She didn't know how to express how she felt. They were almost there, and she was afraid. She didn't know what to expect from meeting her real father. She didn't know how she'd recognize him or how he'd react to her.
Keenan nodded, as if he understood. "We should bury Eagle's wings and look for more," he said. "I don't think they'll still hold you after these months. They actually start to stink."
Sayla looked at him, puzzled. He turned his back so she could sniff his backpack. Indeed there was a smell of decaying tissue coming from there.
"I don't want to be called Stinky Keenan ever again," he continued, resuming his walk. "I got rid of my father's trade, don't make me carry around smelly stuff." He winked.
Her lips trembled into a smile. "You're crazy, Keenan."
He put a noisy kiss on her cheek and slapped her ass. But that night they stopped at the edge of the forest and dug a hole to put Eagle's wings to rest.
***
Three-and-a-half months after leaving Inex and the northern sea coast, they reached another coastal town. Hurlevent had stone walls that made it look almost rectangular in spite of being built on the western side of a wide bay.
Sayla and Keenan entered from the northern gate, that had a portcullis with two gray towers. The same round gray towers were interspersed along the walls. Sayla counted two more before the walls bent and she could see only the top of a third tower as well as another on the other side of the portcullis that seemed to end the wall on the sea shore.
The streets were wide and airy, paved with the same gray stone of the walls and most buildings. Going straight from the gate one ended up on the beach. Sayla and Keenan turned left instead onto another main road with shops and inns that soon opened onto an expanse where a big round temple stood.
They kept going, observing the buildings and their small backyards. The salty air from the sea made them almost feel back home. The town thrived on fishing and trading spices from the south, from the smells wafting around them.
Sayla and Keenan didn't reach the harbor and stayed in the center, observing fountains and marketplaces and thinking it was time to exchange one of the king's golden coins for smaller change.
Sayla gave her first gold coin to a dressmaker. She bought new clothes for both herself and Keenan, since theirs were quite ruined by now and even the spare ones didn't look too good anymore.
Then they reached another square with the twin of a large fountain they had seen after the temple and about twenty stalls around it. The market's traffic wasn't too bad. There were no guards, no pickpockets, no beggars – maybe they preferred hanging out at the harbor, near the seafaring ships.
A smaller fountain, a smaller sculpture, a platform for street performers and a couple of trees were scattered amid the stalls – permanent structures, tables, handcarts and wheelbarrows with goods exposed for all.
It was one of the biggest markets Sayla had ever seen, almost as big as the two in Xendaria. Goods included horses, food animals and hides, gloves and formalwear, amulets, shields and bracers, boots and vests, hot and cold food, honey and fish, salves and herbs, staves and crossbows, sacks and baskets, necklaces, shirts and earrings and even glass and metal work.
She stopped at a hand-cart that had adventuring supplies, books and charts. The owner was female, irritable, with many tattoos, but she haggled enthusiastically to buy one of Sayla's maps.
Sayla bought ink and parchment to draw more maps. She considered flying over the town to have a better view of it and its surrounding, but if she glanced at the peaks now so close, her heart started beating faster and she quickly looked away.
Besides, she didn't have wings anymore.
Keenan bought her nuts and a pastry at a small table with goods piled haphazardly. The male owner was welcoming and slightly overweight. They rested at the edge of the marketplace, watching the crowd going about their business.
"We should look for an inn and the public baths," he said, looking at the buildings around the market. "But we better stay away from the harbor. What do you think if we go back towards the temple?"
Sayla looked around. The stone walls were taller than the houses and by now she had a clearer idea of the town size and shape. Almost rectangular, walls on three sides, sea on the fourth. She counted seven round towers and four twin-towers which meant a gate underneath. There was one gate to the south and two to the west. She wasn't sure which they should take to head for the Central Massif that loomed to the west.
They went back to the temple by another road that went closer to the walls and the two western gates. They saw the public baths and looked for inns in the vicinity when someone called, "Sayla! Keenan!"
Sayla turned, ready to panic. Who knew their names this far south? Had Sanylo followed them here?
Then she exhaled. Not Sanylo, Myckim. And Talullah. What were her parents doing here? She froze as the gray-haired blacksmith and his beautiful wife reached them. Myckim looked relieved, but Talullah was serious.
"How did you find us, sir?" Keenan asked, puzzled.
"We didn't find you, you found us, although we expected the two of you to reach here at some point," Myckim answered. "When Sanylo came back to Inex and told us Sayla wouldn't come back, we decided it was time we went home."
"Home?" Sayla stared jarred at her parents. "Is Sanylo here?"
"No, he married Ol
dina as we had decided and stayed in Inex." Myckim smiled. "I left him the forge and retired to my hometown. I was born in Hurlevent, Sayla."
"Oh." She had never bothered asking him where exactly he came from.
"We're staying at my brother's. Come, there is room for the two of you and we need to talk before we continue our journey."
"I have nothing to say," Sayla snapped, glaring at her mother. "You can't stop me from meeting my peers. I am Sila and I will reach those nests up those mountains." She pointed over the roofs and walls of Hurlevent to the snowy peaks ahead.
"I am not here to stop you," Talullah replied. "And I think your sorto is with Keenan, on the ground, but since we're here, I'll ask Winged Ashras to take us both to my nest."
"I met Winged Elaliah up north," Sayla said defiantly. "Any other secrets to share, Mother? You abandoned her and let her think you were dead!"
Talullah paled but didn't look away. "So you have a lot to tell," she said quietly. "Come with us. We won't hurt you, we only want to talk."
Sayla scowled, but followed her parents to a two-story house that looked big enough for a family with many children.
"There were eight of us at any time, even though not all survived into adulthood," Myckim said, leading them to the attic. "This is now the guest room. I assume you would like to take a bath, since you had stopped at the public baths... You can leave your luggage here. Dinner is at sunset."
***
Keenan had been surprised to see Sayla's parents, but he had no idea that the blacksmith was actually from the south as much as his Sila wife. Myckim hadn't sounded hostile, though, so he had quickly relaxed. He was a little puzzled by Talullah's apparent coldness and he could tell Sayla was even more nervous than before.
As they tried to relax in the pool of warm water, he massaged her shoulders and kissed the scars on her back.
"All your questions might have an answer now," he told her, holding her against him in the water. "You left in a rush, talk to your mother now. Maybe things aren't as bad as you think."
Quests Volume One Page 24