the storyteller, then back to the bald man.
The storyteller bowed to the bald man.
“Perhaps, fine sir,
you’d
like to take the floor? I, for one, am more intrigued by your story than by mine.”
The ranger turned so his back was against the wall. He picked his teeth with a fingernail.
“They could be the same story, my friend. Mine’s not complete, so I’m not sure what to make of it. But I was in Caledena when the Lectodinians and Koradictines took the city. And I was there two days ago when their place was torn apart by Toreans—a new banner, as I understand it, and a new banner the orders don’t much like. But mostly I hear that the Torean banner raided the city to retrieve a pair of mages from the viceroy, and I hear one of those mages has magic that rips souls straight from the bodies of them that own ’em.”
“Sjesko!” The woman up front gasped.
“And that boy out west,” said another.
“Could that Torean be the same demon?” the first woman asked.
“I don’t know those stories,” the bald man replied. “So I couldn’t say, but if the mage that done those was a lanky young man with wild hair, there’s reasonable chance they’re one and the same.”
Garrick shriveled inside.
He pressed himself back into the corner and hunched his shoulders.
“I understand the mage returned to Caledena last night, stole back his horse, and kidnapped a stable boy. And that he killed fifteen men doing it.”
Will’s expression grew animated as understanding dawned on his face.
Garrick gave him a tight-lipped shake of his head.
He glanced around the room. Fifteen dead mages was farcical. That news was probably Elman’s doing, information distributed to stir up the locals.
“It’s him,” a young female voice said.
It was the woman who served their food, standing in the kitchen doorway, her crooked finger pointing at Garrick.
Heads whirled to face him.
He was in shadow, but that wasn’t enough to hide him.
A month ago, perhaps even a day ago, he would have wilted or maybe played dumb by ignoring the accusation and hoping it would die away. Maybe a week ago he would have cast a spell and run. But Garrick felt something different now. He wanted people to know the truth. This was who he was now. He wanted to make things right. These people did not deserve to be toyed with. They deserved to know what was happening, and at that moment, Garrick felt he was finally in the very place he was meant to be.
He stepped from the shadows so that any in the tavern could see him.
The crowd gasped.
Stools screeched against the floor, and voices fell silent.
“You are right, sir,” Garrick said striding to the middle of the room. His tall form and his wiry body gave him an aura of intensity. These people would listen to what he had to say.
“The orders have bonded together, and they are hunting Toreans. I wish I could say things were going well for our independent house, but I can’t. I can, however, forewarn you that when the orders finish with the Torean House, there
will
be a magewar like none you have ever seen, and if it is not stopped now it
will
change the plane forever.”
“Demon!” the woman said. “You killed the boy!”
“It was an accident,” Garrick said. “Purely an accident.”
“Devil!” her husband joined, standing protectively in front of his wife and holding a talisman before him.
The room erupted.
Life force stirred within the chaos. Garrick pushed it back, though, and raised his arms as if to cast a spell.
“Stop it!” he yelled, his voice deep and powerful. “Just stop it.”
The room settled into an edgy and uncomfortable quiet. Fear crossed every face around the room.
“I am no demon. If I were, I would have already supped on your souls. I am merely a man, though. I wish no one harm.”
“What of the dead in Caledena?” the ranger asked.
Garrick turned to the bald man.
“If you’re going to tell stories about me, I suggest you get them right. Only a few
The storyteller bowed to the bald man.
“Perhaps, fine sir,
you’d
like to take the floor? I, for one, am more intrigued by your story than by mine.”
The ranger turned so his back was against the wall. He picked his teeth with a fingernail.
“They could be the same story, my friend. Mine’s not complete, so I’m not sure what to make of it. But I was in Caledena when the Lectodinians and Koradictines took the city. And I was there two days ago when their place was torn apart by Toreans—a new banner, as I understand it, and a new banner the orders don’t much like. But mostly I hear that the Torean banner raided the city to retrieve a pair of mages from the viceroy, and I hear one of those mages has magic that rips souls straight from the bodies of them that own ’em.”
“Sjesko!” The woman up front gasped.
“And that boy out west,” said another.
“Could that Torean be the same demon?” the first woman asked.
“I don’t know those stories,” the bald man replied. “So I couldn’t say, but if the mage that done those was a lanky young man with wild hair, there’s reasonable chance they’re one and the same.”
Garrick shriveled inside.
He pressed himself back into the corner and hunched his shoulders.
“I understand the mage returned to Caledena last night, stole back his horse, and kidnapped a stable boy. And that he killed fifteen men doing it.”
Will’s expression grew animated as understanding dawned on his face.
Garrick gave him a tight-lipped shake of his head.
He glanced around the room. Fifteen dead mages was farcical. That news was probably Elman’s doing, information distributed to stir up the locals.
“It’s him,” a young female voice said.
It was the woman who served their food, standing in the kitchen doorway, her crooked finger pointing at Garrick.
Heads whirled to face him.
He was in shadow, but that wasn’t enough to hide him.
A month ago, perhaps even a day ago, he would have wilted or maybe played dumb by ignoring the accusation and hoping it would die away. Maybe a week ago he would have cast a spell and run. But Garrick felt something different now. He wanted people to know the truth. This was who he was now. He wanted to make things right. These people did not deserve to be toyed with. They deserved to know what was happening, and at that moment, Garrick felt he was finally in the very place he was meant to be.
He stepped from the shadows so that any in the tavern could see him.
The crowd gasped.
Stools screeched against the floor, and voices fell silent.
“You are right, sir,” Garrick said striding to the middle of the room. His tall form and his wiry body gave him an aura of intensity. These people would listen to what he had to say.
“The orders have bonded together, and they are hunting Toreans. I wish I could say things were going well for our independent house, but I can’t. I can, however, forewarn you that when the orders finish with the Torean House, there
will
be a magewar like none you have ever seen, and if it is not stopped now it
will
change the plane forever.”
“Demon!” the woman said. “You killed the boy!”
“It was an accident,” Garrick said. “Purely an accident.”
“Devil!” her husband joined, standing protectively in front of his wife and holding a talisman before him.
The room erupted.
Life force stirred within the chaos. Garrick pushed it back, though, and raised his arms as if to cast a spell.
“Stop it!” he yelled, his voice deep and powerful. “Just stop it.”
The room settled into an edgy and uncomfortable quiet. Fear crossed every face around the room.
“I am no demon. If I were, I would have already supped on your souls. I am merely a man, though. I wish no one harm.”
“What of the dead in Caledena?” the ranger asked.
Garrick turned to the bald man.
“If you’re going to tell stories about me, I suggest you get them right. Only a few
Similar Books
