once belonged to a Kelgryn man named Kevard. I'm
Alto, by the way."
The farmer grunted without even looking at
the ornate hilt at Alto's side. "I planned to take my family and
flee once the sun sets. We've lost nearly everything but one
another and I'm not wanting to risk that, too. Those things don't
come out at night. I suggest you head back to where you came from
then, too. There's too many of them."
"A wise move," Tristam said. "For you, at
least. We still want to help what's left of your town. Wait until
we leave; perhaps we can be a distraction helping you get
away."
"You're headed to the forest?"
Tristam nodded.
"May the saints favor you or grant you a
quick death. That forest is evil and only fools go there!"
"We'll keep that in mind then," Tristam said
through a forced smile. "I make it to be about four more hours
until the sun sets?"
The farmer nodded. "That's about right. Make
yourselves comfortable; there's naught else I can offer."
Alto fought back the frown at the man's
bitterness. He felt bad for the farmer; he knew how difficult his
life could be in the best of times. To lose a child and then be
overwhelmed by a plague of giant wasps was beyond thinking.
"Pardon me, but how much land do you farm?"
Alto asked.
The farmer turned, his eyes widening before
they narrowed. "Why?"
Alto offered him what he hoped was a smile of
friendship. "I grew up on a farm like this one. In the northern
reaches, not far from the Northern Divide. My father farms nearly
two hundred acres."
"That's a lot of land," James
acknowledged.
"I'm the oldest of seven children," Alto said
with a chuckle.
James smiled. "That explains it. I, well, we
made do with the eighty we've got. Before this happened, that
is."
Alto saw his expression darken. "That's
impressive all the same, more land per person than my family
managed."
Alto saw Tristam motion for the others to
move away from him and the family. Alto took the hint and moved
closer to the farmer, leading him into the house closer to
Willamina and Kevard. He saw his companions conversing, no doubt
making plans and discussing what was to come. He saw Tristam glance
at him and offer him a nod, letting him know his job was to keep
the farmer and his family busy. Alto returned the nod and focused
on the conversation. It surprised him how much he missed talking
about his former life.
* * * *
Rosalyn gasped when the group of men rode up
to her house. She glanced up at the open doorway to the room where
Therion had taken refuge. He was working on something, he'd said.
She had no idea what it was or what that even meant. For all she
knew, he might have been cooking a stew or darning his socks.
Her eyes went back to the mirror and she
watched as they killed the wasps and then were met by her father.
Tears filled her eyes, and then dried up when she saw her father
turn and gesture at her mother and brother. She couldn't hear them
but he showed no sign of being upset that she was gone. Had her
disappearance made his life better? He'd always doted on her
brother; maybe she'd been an inconvenience. No man wanted a
daughter as their firstborn. Other than doing chores around the
house, all she could offer would be a closer relation with another
family when she would have been married off.
It looked like she'd solved that problem for
him. Now if only the wasps would go away, his life would be
perfect. Rosalyn closed her eyes and took a few breaths to try to
calm herself. She was on her own. The adventurers wouldn't survive,
especially if the best their wizard could do was a giant bird that
wasn't even real. Her eyes went to the young warrior and she felt a
mixture of anger and pity. He was close to her age or maybe a
little older but that didn't matter. He was going to die.
Chapter 7
"You're all going to die," James said later
that night.
"This isn't the first time we've heard that,"
Tristam said. "Make sure if we do that you and your family get far
enough
Alto, by the way."
The farmer grunted without even looking at
the ornate hilt at Alto's side. "I planned to take my family and
flee once the sun sets. We've lost nearly everything but one
another and I'm not wanting to risk that, too. Those things don't
come out at night. I suggest you head back to where you came from
then, too. There's too many of them."
"A wise move," Tristam said. "For you, at
least. We still want to help what's left of your town. Wait until
we leave; perhaps we can be a distraction helping you get
away."
"You're headed to the forest?"
Tristam nodded.
"May the saints favor you or grant you a
quick death. That forest is evil and only fools go there!"
"We'll keep that in mind then," Tristam said
through a forced smile. "I make it to be about four more hours
until the sun sets?"
The farmer nodded. "That's about right. Make
yourselves comfortable; there's naught else I can offer."
Alto fought back the frown at the man's
bitterness. He felt bad for the farmer; he knew how difficult his
life could be in the best of times. To lose a child and then be
overwhelmed by a plague of giant wasps was beyond thinking.
"Pardon me, but how much land do you farm?"
Alto asked.
The farmer turned, his eyes widening before
they narrowed. "Why?"
Alto offered him what he hoped was a smile of
friendship. "I grew up on a farm like this one. In the northern
reaches, not far from the Northern Divide. My father farms nearly
two hundred acres."
"That's a lot of land," James
acknowledged.
"I'm the oldest of seven children," Alto said
with a chuckle.
James smiled. "That explains it. I, well, we
made do with the eighty we've got. Before this happened, that
is."
Alto saw his expression darken. "That's
impressive all the same, more land per person than my family
managed."
Alto saw Tristam motion for the others to
move away from him and the family. Alto took the hint and moved
closer to the farmer, leading him into the house closer to
Willamina and Kevard. He saw his companions conversing, no doubt
making plans and discussing what was to come. He saw Tristam glance
at him and offer him a nod, letting him know his job was to keep
the farmer and his family busy. Alto returned the nod and focused
on the conversation. It surprised him how much he missed talking
about his former life.
* * * *
Rosalyn gasped when the group of men rode up
to her house. She glanced up at the open doorway to the room where
Therion had taken refuge. He was working on something, he'd said.
She had no idea what it was or what that even meant. For all she
knew, he might have been cooking a stew or darning his socks.
Her eyes went back to the mirror and she
watched as they killed the wasps and then were met by her father.
Tears filled her eyes, and then dried up when she saw her father
turn and gesture at her mother and brother. She couldn't hear them
but he showed no sign of being upset that she was gone. Had her
disappearance made his life better? He'd always doted on her
brother; maybe she'd been an inconvenience. No man wanted a
daughter as their firstborn. Other than doing chores around the
house, all she could offer would be a closer relation with another
family when she would have been married off.
It looked like she'd solved that problem for
him. Now if only the wasps would go away, his life would be
perfect. Rosalyn closed her eyes and took a few breaths to try to
calm herself. She was on her own. The adventurers wouldn't survive,
especially if the best their wizard could do was a giant bird that
wasn't even real. Her eyes went to the young warrior and she felt a
mixture of anger and pity. He was close to her age or maybe a
little older but that didn't matter. He was going to die.
Chapter 7
"You're all going to die," James said later
that night.
"This isn't the first time we've heard that,"
Tristam said. "Make sure if we do that you and your family get far
enough
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