“Maybe this happens quite often,” suggested Kevik.
“It does,” replied a farmer sitting the table next to his.
“More often than it should,” his wife added.
“Do they attack?” asked Riyan.
The farmer shook his head. “Not since we started gathering at the inn when they’re in the area. Once in a while a farm might lose some livestock and a house ransacked, but no one’s been killed in years.”
“Makes sense,” responded Chyfe. “Taking this inn wouldn’t be worth the risks.”
“That’s the idea,” the farmer said. “Better to lose some livestock or goods than your life.”
Bart turned to the farmer and said, “On the way in we saw headstones in your graveyard that looked rather new.”
“Oh,” the farmer replied. “That was from something else.”
At that time, the serving girl appeared from the kitchen carrying a tray bearing a dozen mugs in one hand and a pitcher of ale in the other. Moving from table to table, she passed out the mugs and filled each from the pitcher.
For the next hour, Riyan and the others remained in the common room, expecting to aid in holding off a Raider attack. During that time, the people who called Marl Crest home acted as if this was nothing more than a big social gathering. Riyan was surprised that there wasn’t even a minute trace of underlying fear. It was almost as if they were simply going through the motions without really expecting an attack to manifest.
So when a girl’s scream split the night, the townsfolk froze in shock. Riyan, Bart, and the rest of their group on the other hand were not so handicapped. Immediately springing to action, they leaped from their seats and raced for the door leading out back to the stable. For that had been the direction from which the scream had originated.
Bart was first to the door and was through in a flash. By this time, the townsfolk had recovered from their shock and were in motion too. Out back, Bart quickly took notice of light coming from within the stable. Shadows wielding swords could be seen moving about.
“Kevik!” hollered Bart as he raced for the stable. “Light!” A second later, light sprang from his staff and flooded the rear courtyard of the inn.
“In the stable!” one of the archers stationed on the inn’s rooftop hollered to them.
With a dart gripped in one hand, Bart raced for the stable door. Behind him he heard the old soldier shouting for others to move around the back of the stable to prevent anyone from escaping.
Again a scream ripped through the night, only this time it came from behind them, in the direction of the inn.
Crash!
A body smashed its way through the side of the stable. The dark skin and sword held in his hand declared for all to see that it was indeed one of the Raiders.
“Kill him!” a man cried.
“No!” hollered the old soldier. “We want him alive!”
The Raider stood there for a split second as he took in the situation. Seeing the only path to freedom lay to his left, he bolted in that direction.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
Two arrows and one of Bart’s darts embedded themselves into the side of the stable a split second after the Raider bolted.
“Don’t kill him!” the grizzled old soldier yelled to the bowman atop the inn. “We need him alive!”
Then a few, short magical words sounded in the courtyard and the Raider was suddenly encased in goo. With his legs and most of his upper body immobile, the Raider was unable to keep his balance and hit the ground hard.
“Take his sword,” one of the locals hollered.
Bart was the first to reach him with Riyan a close second. In a matter of moments they had him disarmed.
“Damn Orack Raider!” one local cursed. Another spat at him.
Kevik kept the goo on the man until several of the bowmen had arrived. Once the bowman had arrows knocked and at the ready, Kevik canceled the goo spell. Immediately, three of the locals came forward and bound the man’s hands together.
“Take him to the stable’s storeroom,” the old soldier ordered. “And make sure he doesn’t get away.” As the Raider was being escorted to the storeroom, the soldier turned to another man. “Ride to Kendruck and let them know we’ve caught a Raider.”
“What are they going to do to him?” asked Chyfe.
“Question him of course,” the old soldier replied. Then to another he said, “Stay alert. His friends may not be far away.”
The man nodded and began collecting bystanders for guards.
“Can’t tell you how much we appreciate what you did,” the old soldier said to Kevik.
“Glad I could help,” Kevik replied.
The old soldier turned to the women and other onlookers standing near the inn. Raising his voice, he said, “Go back inside. It’s over.”
“At least for now,” another man stated.
Nodding, the old soldier moved off to make sure the sentries that had been posted were in the proper positions.
“Now what?” asked Seth.
“Looks like it’s over for now,” Riyan said.
Bart nodded. “Best if we return to the inn and stay out of their way,” he said. “If they need us, they’ll know where to find us.”
As they headed back to the inn, Soth asked, “Did any of you notice the color pattern the Raider was wearing?” When they shook their heads, he said, “It was the same as the two Tribesmen we saw coming from the Orack trading house in Kendruck.”
“That would make sense,” Chad said. “Especially seeing as how the Orack Tribe is the closest one to here.”
Riyan nodded. Then he got a thoughtful look on his face as he paused and glanced back to the stable. Bart noticed what he was doing and came to a stop. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned.
“What?” asked Chad.
Bart gestured to Riyan. “He’s thinking about talking with the Raider about the wine bottle,” he explained. “Aren’t you?” he asked Riyan.
“If things were otherwise I would,” he admitted. “I’m sure he’d know something. But I doubt if he’d be too inclined to talk right now.”
Seth chuckled. “Man you got that right,” he said. “All he’s thinking about now is how to get out of there.”
Bart slapped Riyan on the back in a friendly manner. “Come on,” he said and walked with his friend back to the inn.
The decision was made to post their own guard during the night in the event more Raiders arrived to rescue their comrade. Riyan volunteered for the first watch as he wasn’t about to fall asleep any time soon. While the others began settling in for the night, Riyan went downstairs to the common room to see what was going on.
There he found the tables and chairs were being pushed aside to clear an area for sleeping pallets. Kiera, the elderly lady who ran the inn, was directing the men moving her tables where to place them. Riyan looked around for the girl but didn’t see her.
“Are you and your friends staying in Marl Crest long?” asked a lady’s voice behind him.
Turning about, he found a young woman in her mid twenties. “No,” he replied. “We’re leaving in the morning.”
“Oh,” she said, disappointed. “I was hoping you could stay longer.” Her hand moved forward and lightly touched his forearm.
“We have business to the south and can’t afford to linger,” he explained. Gesturing to the pallets being laid upon the floor, he asked, “What’s going on here?”
“Since a Raider has been captured,” she said, “they want everyone to remain within the inn until dawn. They fear his friends might make a rescue attempt.”
“Sharon!” a male’s voice exclaimed.
The woman snatched her hand back from Riyan’s arm as a gasp escaped her. Riyan saw an older gentleman with a grimace upon his face crossing the room toward them. The man rounded on the woman and asked, “What do you think you’re doing?”
She blushed slightly. “I…I was simply thanking this gentleman for the help he and his friends gave in capturing the Raider,” she replied nervously.
The man turned his expression to Riyan. Then without saying a word to him, he took the woman by the elbow and practically dragged her to the other side of the room. There, he began talking heatedly with her.