to
contain his excitement.
The man waved the question
away. “That’s information, son, and I don’t give that away for free. See here,
it’s late. How about you take a room for the night, and I’ll go see if
my…friend…knows anything that might help you. If so, we can talk price
tomorrow. If not, we simply part ways.”
Regardless of how little
Darius liked or trusted the man, it was the closest they had come to a
breakthrough since the journey began, and a possibility, however remote, he
could not walk away from. He agreed to the man’s proposal, then clapped Luke on
the back and said, “Let’s go see the barkeep about a room.”
*
The room was small, dirty, and
overpriced, but the brothers tried to see the best in the situation—having a
roof over one’s head and a bed to sleep in while a storm raged outside made
matters seem far better. They wanted to rise early, and the nature of the
accommodation gave them even more incentive to blow out the room’s two candles
as soon as possible and settle in to sleep.
Sometime after midnight the
storm passed, and a silence settled over this part of the world. Had the
brothers not been so worn out from their time on the road, and so seduced by
the dubious comforts of the lumpy mattress they slept upon, they might have
heard the furtive whispers and shuffling feet earlier. As it was, when they
were rudely woken each was held fast by strong arms, and knives were positioned
over their throats.
Darius swam up from sleep,
sure the situation was bad before he fully knew why. He tried to remain calm
and still while his eyes fought for focus, a single candle that guttered in the
breeze that wafted through the just-opened window the only light.
“Lay still, boy, or they’ll
cut you whether they want to or not.” The speaker was the man they had talked
to earlier, and the words were directed at Luke, who struggled to free himself
from the two men that held him down. The assailants, the brothers could now
see, were the other men present in the tavern earlier that evening.
Luke managed to make eye contact
with his brother, and receiving a nod, did his best to relax, at least
physically. He would wait for one of them to let down their guard, to loosen
their grip, and then…
The man held up Luke’s pack
like a prize. He turned out the contents, and then pawed through them for a few
seconds with a frown that could have been disappointment or simply the mask of
someone intent on a task.
“Good enough,” the man said,
the words as non-committal as his expression. “Now for the other one.”
“If you mean to rob us, we
don’t have much of value,” Darius said. He glanced at his sword. It was beside
the bed, even within arm’s reach, but with the men holding him and the knife
biting down on his windpipe, it may as well have been back home.
“I’ll be the judge of that,
although I don’t intend to rob you unless you deserve it.” He searched around
the bed with the candle before him, giving a small cry of triumph as he found
Darius’ pack.
The man knelt to go through
Darius’ belongings, and as he did so Darius could see no more than his
shoulders and the back of his head. He felt his insides tighten and forced
himself to close his eyes and take a deep, calming breath.
“Well, what have we here,” the
man said. He rose and marched to Darius’ side of the bed. Thrusting the candle
and his discovery into Darius’ face, he demanded an explanation with a harsh,
“What’s this?”
Darius had expected to be
confronted with the book, but instead it was his blue-and-yellow uniform, one
that identified him as a soldier in Longvale’s army. Unsure what kind of answer
would be best, Darius chose to simply state the obvious. “It’s a uniform.”
“Yours?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you said you
weren’t the king’s man.”
“Service is forced upon
everyone once they come of age. Being forced to fight in the war doesn’t mean
I’m part of the King’s
contain his excitement.
The man waved the question
away. “That’s information, son, and I don’t give that away for free. See here,
it’s late. How about you take a room for the night, and I’ll go see if
my…friend…knows anything that might help you. If so, we can talk price
tomorrow. If not, we simply part ways.”
Regardless of how little
Darius liked or trusted the man, it was the closest they had come to a
breakthrough since the journey began, and a possibility, however remote, he
could not walk away from. He agreed to the man’s proposal, then clapped Luke on
the back and said, “Let’s go see the barkeep about a room.”
*
The room was small, dirty, and
overpriced, but the brothers tried to see the best in the situation—having a
roof over one’s head and a bed to sleep in while a storm raged outside made
matters seem far better. They wanted to rise early, and the nature of the
accommodation gave them even more incentive to blow out the room’s two candles
as soon as possible and settle in to sleep.
Sometime after midnight the
storm passed, and a silence settled over this part of the world. Had the
brothers not been so worn out from their time on the road, and so seduced by
the dubious comforts of the lumpy mattress they slept upon, they might have
heard the furtive whispers and shuffling feet earlier. As it was, when they
were rudely woken each was held fast by strong arms, and knives were positioned
over their throats.
Darius swam up from sleep,
sure the situation was bad before he fully knew why. He tried to remain calm
and still while his eyes fought for focus, a single candle that guttered in the
breeze that wafted through the just-opened window the only light.
“Lay still, boy, or they’ll
cut you whether they want to or not.” The speaker was the man they had talked
to earlier, and the words were directed at Luke, who struggled to free himself
from the two men that held him down. The assailants, the brothers could now
see, were the other men present in the tavern earlier that evening.
Luke managed to make eye contact
with his brother, and receiving a nod, did his best to relax, at least
physically. He would wait for one of them to let down their guard, to loosen
their grip, and then…
The man held up Luke’s pack
like a prize. He turned out the contents, and then pawed through them for a few
seconds with a frown that could have been disappointment or simply the mask of
someone intent on a task.
“Good enough,” the man said,
the words as non-committal as his expression. “Now for the other one.”
“If you mean to rob us, we
don’t have much of value,” Darius said. He glanced at his sword. It was beside
the bed, even within arm’s reach, but with the men holding him and the knife
biting down on his windpipe, it may as well have been back home.
“I’ll be the judge of that,
although I don’t intend to rob you unless you deserve it.” He searched around
the bed with the candle before him, giving a small cry of triumph as he found
Darius’ pack.
The man knelt to go through
Darius’ belongings, and as he did so Darius could see no more than his
shoulders and the back of his head. He felt his insides tighten and forced
himself to close his eyes and take a deep, calming breath.
“Well, what have we here,” the
man said. He rose and marched to Darius’ side of the bed. Thrusting the candle
and his discovery into Darius’ face, he demanded an explanation with a harsh,
“What’s this?”
Darius had expected to be
confronted with the book, but instead it was his blue-and-yellow uniform, one
that identified him as a soldier in Longvale’s army. Unsure what kind of answer
would be best, Darius chose to simply state the obvious. “It’s a uniform.”
“Yours?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you said you
weren’t the king’s man.”
“Service is forced upon
everyone once they come of age. Being forced to fight in the war doesn’t mean
I’m part of the King’s
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