A Promise of Vengeance

7. The Traveler's Tale

The Traveler's Tale

Rahg and Darstan raced up the steps to Havril's Inn, worried about getting a good seat. Darstan hit the landing first and shoved the door open. "Half the tables are full. Eru must have told everyone."

Darstan stood just inside the door and scanned the inn. Benches and tables crowded a big rectangular room and sat atop old oak planks held fast with iron nails. A fat candle adorned each table, and the chairs, if not easy to sit on, were sturdy and level. A huge fieldstone fireplace as big as a peddler's wagon sat near the center of the room on the outside wall. It had a hearth that could seat the whole Nester family—all eight of them.

Darstan tugged on Rahg's sleeve and pointed to a man near the center of the room. "That must be him."

The traveler stood taller than Kor Trasken by half a hand, but he was beanstalk-thin and had a long, twisted nose that hooked down toward his mouth. A dusty-brown cloak and haggard gray britches did nothing to reveal his occupation.

"Doesn't look like any bard I've seen," Rahg said.

"Eru never said he was a bard, Rahg; you're the one that thought that up. Looks more like a soldier to me." Darstan grabbed Rahg's sleeve and dragged him toward an open table. "C'mon, these seats won't last long."

Ella Havril and her younger sister, Kora, were charged with serving the ale while Ella's mother and four other girls served the food. Ella dodged old Blake Carter, already with too much ale in him and stumbling around like a cow with the fever. Then she adeptly spun to the side while holding four mugs of ale in each hand.

"Look at that, she didn't spill a drop."

"Never does," Darstan said.

Ella was serving the table next to them when she called out to Darstan, her soft voice somehow piercing the ruckus from the boisterous patrons surrounding her. "Will it be the usual tonight?"

Darstan flashed a smile. "We're here for the duration, Ella. Everyone from here to Herschwig knows about the traveler."

Ella took a deep breath. She had already stared too long at Darstan, and if she didn't leave soon she risked the sting of gossip.

"I like your dress, Ella. Is that a new one?"

Ella's younger sister, Kora, stopped on her way to the kitchen. "Don't get too flustered, sister. You might fall over."

Ella delivered a warning kick to Kora's leg, then turned and smiled at Darstan and Rahg. "I'll be right back with your drinks."

Ella grabbed Kora's sleeve and tugged her along. "Kora! He might have heard you. You'd better not do anything like that again."

When they reached the kitchen, Kora stood for a moment, ogling Darstan. "He's the catch for you, Ella. Mercy's grace but he's handsome!"

Ella wrapped her hands around two mugs of ale and turned to leave, her cheeks as red as Kairen's roses. "Who?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"Who?" Kora laughed and an exaggerated sigh ushered in her words. "He's got eyes the color of almonds, and hair as black as night, and his—"

"Shut-up, Kora, or I promise, I'll—"

"Ella! Set those mugs down before you drop them." Mrs. Havril stood with her arms folded in front of her. "As for you, Kora, if I must tell you one more time about a girl's privacy... What's said in this family stays here!" The look in her eyes demanded a response.

"Yes, Mother," Kora said, then turned to her sister. "I'm sorry, Ella. I was just teasing."

Mrs. Havril unfolded her arms, nodding all the while. "All right. That's how sisters should act." She wrapped both arms around her girls, then leaned in close to hug them. "Now tell me who's so handsome that my girls can't serve drinks."

"Either one of those Fal-Thera boys. They're both good looking, but Darstan is enough to make me weep." Kora sighed as she peeked through the door to get another glimpse of him.

Mrs. Havril cuffed the back of Kora's head. "I have a notion that a girl as young as you shouldn't be so free with her talk." The scowl on her face became a snicker then laughter. She hustled Kora out of the way and peered through the door at Rahg and Darstan. "I say Rahg is the one to go after. A girl would spend all her life chasin' other women away from Darstan. Be like tryin' to keep bees from the honey; leastwise, till he gets old and fat."

Ella chuckled. "All men get old, mother, but not all of them get fat. Look at Kor Trasken."

"He's different, daughter. He's a soldier. Besides, most men do. And no sense riskin' heartaches over a man like that. Just set your mind to findin' a good, hardworkin' soul. That'd be what you want. Someone to put food on your table and a fire in your hearth. You don't want a man to be buildin' a fire in someone else's hearth." Mrs. Havril rustled Kora's hair. "That flashy smile won't make you happy, dear, but it just might break your heart."

"Oh mother!" Ella said, then exited the swinging doors with a smile on her lips, and several ales in each hand. She negotiated through the narrow paths separating the tables, then almost bumped into Magmar and Tobias. "Excuse me, Mr. Fal-Thera, Mr. Marek. It's crowded tonight."

"I can see that, lass," Tobias said. "Where's Rahg?"

"Just past the center of the room. He and Darstan have a good table."

Tobias chuckled as Ella squeezed by them. "You know, Magmar, she's got the prettiest blue eyes I've seen since your Marna was alive. She's a bright lass, too."

Magmar nodded, then laughed. "Tobias, trying to pay attention to everything you say is like trying to count raindrops."

Rahg scanned the inn, spying Magmar. The room held about eighty people, all in various stages of sitting, rising, or shuffling their way to and from the privies out back.

Darstan stood to wave them over. "Blast it, Rahg, Tobias is with him."

Rahg let his mug set heavy on the table. "We'll be lucky to even hear what the man has to say."

Magmar crossed the room, stopping to greet friends and neighbors, and continually nodding in response to Tobias's incessant chatter. When they reached the table, Magmar sat on Rahg's left, leaving the only available seat for Tobias next to Darstan. Rahg smiled and poked Darstan under the table. He received a hard left jab to his arm as reward.

"Has the ale gotten the better of you lads already? Why, I could tell you some stories about ale, and what it does to lads and men alike."

"The traveler is ready to speak," Magmar said. "Let's listen."

"I believe I know him," Tobias said, squinting while he searched for a striker to light his pipe. "I do know him. It's Beryl."

Havril rang the large bell hanging from the rafters near the kitchen. Everyone knew the signal, and the room soon settled down.

Thank the gods, Rahg thought as the traveler began to speak. His imagination had prepared him for a smooth flowing tale, a colorful picture painted by an artist of the language, but the man spoke in short, terse statements, facts, and details. A scout in the Sykoran patrol had more spark in his report than this man.

"As I said..."

The traveler's drab, lusterless voice made it difficult to concentrate.

"There are reports from all patrols. Victas are rousing. They've been spotted far outside their territory, and the Nyaurans reported Wolfen in their lands. You need to make preparations in case they come here, though I doubt they would; Twin Forks is far off the main trade routes."

The air in Havril's stilled, then people shouted the inevitable questions from every table.

"Victas! I thought they were long dead."

"Nobody's even seen a Victa unless you count Tobias's old tales."

Beryl spoke at the first break in the clamor. "Just because you haven't seen one doesn't mean they don't exist. The people in Genda have likely never seen a bear."

"What are they doing out of Sethia?" someone shouted.

"Why would they come here?"

"We can handle the Victas," Pieter said, though his voice rang with the sound of too many ales.

Tobias pushed his chair back and stood, pipe in hand. "Stop your screeching! The whole bunch of ya sound like Netter's old hen. As for you, Pieter, I'd wager if a Victa walked through that door he wouldn't need a weapon to send the whole pack of ya scurrying home. It's a lot different fightin' Victas than it is men. Puts the fear of the demon in you." Tobias puffed repeatedly on his pipe, the smoke bursting out in great clouds. "Let Beryl finish what he's got to say."

None of the men dared speak for fear of embarrassment, but Havril's wife held no reservations. "Tobias Marek, are you to tell us these tales of Victas and Wolfen and such are true?"

Tobias lowered his head and shook it slowly. He set his pipe on the table and stared around the room. His blue eyes had gone cold and the wrinkles on his face hardened. "You all know me. Some think I'm good only for tellin' tales. Others think I'm slower than a possum with a sack full of babies. But I'll not paint a dark sky blue, not at a time like this. Truth is, if the Victas are out it can only mean trouble. The Wolfen make it worse. But we can deal with Victas and Wolfen. What worries me is why are they coming? Why now? Does this mean the Banished Ones have found a way out? If so, then we're—"

The mention of the Banished Ones stopped all talking. Two or three people got up and left. Tobias stared at them, puffing on his pipe until someone mustered the courage to speak.

"What about Mikkellana and the good immortals? What about Aentarra?"

"I don't know about Mikkellana," Tobias said. "And as to some of them being good, well... there's not much to support that. When two wolves fight over the same ewe it makes little difference to the ewe which wolf wins." He picked up his pipe and tapped it once, then rekindled the fire. "As to Aentarra, I'd sooner eat a toad than meet her on the street. That one makes a serpent seem as sweet as peach pudding."

"What's wrong with Aentarra?" someone yelled.

Tobias thought for a moment, then addressed the question. "Guess that depends. The stories say if you greet her on the street she might kiss you or she might kill you." At that they all stayed quiet.

With that break, Beryl continued with his report. "I've seen tracks of a small Victa party not five leagues from where we sit, though it was across the border in Nyauran territory. Could have been hunters, but I doubt it. There..." Beryl paused, as if he didn't want to finish, but when he received a nod from Tobias he continued. "There was a rock dragon with them."

Dead silence followed the crowd's gasp. Rahg's stomach burned with pangs of dread. An image of the rock dragons flared in Rahg's mind, brought to life by Tobias' stories. He could picture their teeth—like daggers—and the scales dripping blood. "Gods be dead, Darstan. Rock dragons!"

Darstan nodded.

The crowd peppered Beryl with endless questions, while other voices offered a range of solutions. Amid it all, they somehow agreed to meet at Magmar's house later that evening.

After several more rounds of questions, Magmar suggested they leave. "Let's go, lads. It's late and we'll have to finish the chores before everyone comes to the house." Magmar headed toward the door.

Rahg grabbed Darstan by the arm. "I was planning on asking Kanella's father if I could call on her."

Before Darstan could say anything, Tobias came up beside them. "Don't mean to take the snap out of your day, lad, but we've got a meeting to hold tonight. There's no time to dally. Put yourself together and get going. We'll be at your father's house after supper to discuss things."

Kor Trasken walked through the kitchen and into the parlor. He plopped on the seat at the end of the sofa, across from the fireplace. Ben Corin and Jed Nester plopped down next to him.

Darstan helped Magmar bring in a few more chairs, struggling to fit them in and still leave space to walk. The room could comfortably accommodate eight—twelve with extra chairs, but today twenty-one were packed inside.

Darstan had found enough seats for the older men, with one exception—Tobias sat on the flush-hearth, his chin resting on drawn-up knees. Darstan elbowed Rahg and whispered. "Tobias looks like a lad of twelve."

Brought out of his state of euphoria, Rahg glanced over, then chuckled as Ben's father offered his seat on the bench to Tobias only to be berated.

"Young fellow, I've spent days sleeping in places so bad it would make this seem like the queen's bed chamber. One time, had to sleep for three days wedged in a crevice covered with thorn bushes—three days! Had nothin' but water and a handful of nuts with me and couldn't make a sound for fear there'd be a bandit patrol nearby." Tobias shook his head. "Sittin' on a nice warm hearth won't bother me."

Darstan elbowed Rahg and smiled. He didn't dare laugh.

Kor Trasken started out the talks, explaining his strategy for defense of the town if it came to that. Rahg didn't understand anything of what he said, and soon found himself dreaming of Kanella and planning his own strategy—how to ask her father if he could walk with her.

Darstan jabbed him again. "Pay attention."

Rahg snapped alert just as Tobias began to speak.

"We have to assume this is a raiding party. A small group we can take care of, even several patrols, but if they've got a big force with rock dragons we'll need help. We need to split up into patrols and find them."

Rahg drifted-off again, dreaming of Kanella. He couldn't help it, despite the seriousness of the matter at hand.

"Magmar, we'll take Rahg and Darstan with us." Tobias raised his voice. "We'll leave at first-light. If Rahg is still with us, that is."

Rahg snapped to attention. He had only caught bits and pieces of the conversation. Darstan can tell me the rest tonight.

Rahg lay wide awake in bed, eyes refusing to close. "You still awake, Dar?"

Darstan rolled to his side. "Hard to sleep thinking about Victas. Seems as if everything changed in two days."

"I've been thinking about that wolf ever since the traveler came. I'll bet it was one of those Wolfen the traveler talked about."

"He said the Wolfen were in Nyauran, not Kamnor, but I don't know, Rahg. I don't know about anything anymore."

"What if we have to fight them?" Rahg stared out the window at the trees swaying to the night breeze. Too many shadows kept his fear alive.

"We'll do what we can if it comes to that."

"How are you going to fight lizards? You're scared to death of little snakes, let alone lizards as big as men."

"Snakes and lizards aren't the same. If they were snake-people I'd be more scared." Darstan rested his head on both of his hands as he stared at the blank ceiling. "This is all like a dream, Rahg, it'll go away."

"I'm scared," Rahg said. "I wish it was just a dream."

"Me too, Rahg. Me too."

Darstan stared at the ceiling, listening to Rahg toss in his bed. His stomach churned, roiled with something...bad. The feeling seemed familiar, almost like the uneasiness he got as a child after he had done something wrong... but he was doing nothing wrong now. He placed both hands over his stomach, then closed his eyes again and tried to think about good things, about anything to get his mind off of this...whatever it was.