“I’d agree with you for the most part,” Riyan relied. “But I would think there would come a time when even the unknown would be preferable to some things.”
“You got that right,” agreed Bart. He himself had embarked on the unknown when he originally came to Quillim. Of course, he had done so because his life would have been forfeit had he remained in Wardean.
They rode until the sun was low in the sky before moving off the road to make camp. There they made a fire to keep the cold at bay until morning. It took most of the remaining daylight for them to find sufficient fuel to last throughout the night as the surrounding countryside had little in the way of trees. What they did find were roots and grass which they bundled tightly together to form logs.
A watch was posted and the night passed uneventfully. As the sun emerged with the dawn, they had a bite to eat before retuning to the road. The clouds which were present to the south throughout the previous day were no closer, much to everyone’s relief.
The road continued to be deserted as they put miles behind them. Late in the morning a forest appeared ahead of them. By late afternoon they came to a village situated within the northern fringe of the tree line. Unlike the previous collections of huts they’d run across, this place was clearly inhabited.
They were pretty sure they had passed out of the disputed area and were now completely within lands unequivocally that of the Moran Tribes. And in all probability those of the Orack Tribe.
Any doubt about where they were was quickly quelled when they saw that the villagers had the darker skin of Tribesmen. As if that wasn’t enough the tell-tale pattern of the Orack Tribe was worked into many of their clothing.
“Now to see what kind of reception we’re likely to receive,” Riyan said. He was glad beyond measure that their first encounter was to be with a village rather than a Raider raiding party.
As they continued to approach, villagers began taking notice of their arrival. They didn’t seem overly concerned about the imminent arrival of strangers. Curious would be the term Bart would have given them. But when a group of a dozen armed men emerged from within the village, things grew tenser.
“Just take it easy,” Bart said to the others. “They’re being cautious is all.” Then to the twins he added, “Remember, we’re agents of a trader up north interested in securing trading contracts for the coming summer caravans.”
Never taking his eyes from the armed Tribesmen, Seth nodded.
“No one do anything that could be remotely construed as hostile or suspicious,” warned Riyan.
An older man wearing a leather breastplate with a sword hanging at his hip led the group. He paused as he reached the edge of the village and spoke to the onlookers who had gathered there to gawk at the new arrivals. After a brief exchange of words, the onlookers moved back a dozen yards to be out of the way.
Seth and Soth continued to lead their group forward. When they came within twenty feet of the armed men, Seth raised his hand and brought them to a stop. Glancing back to those behind him, he said loud enough for the armed men to hear, “Stay here.” Then he turned back to the fore and rode out alone.
“Welcome stranger,” greeted the man with the breastplate when Seth drew near.
“And to you sir,” replied Seth. “You needn’t fear, we are not here to cause your village any trouble.”
“One can never be too sure,” the man replied.
Seth nodded. “My name is Seth,” he said. “My brother and I are agents for a merchant up north who has sent us here to investigate the possibilities of trade.”
The man glanced behind Seth, taking in his brother and the others. “I’m Garron. I have charge of this area,” the man with the breastplate said. “We don’t have much in the way of trade goods here in Sterrith. Though Enia has some fine wood carvings which you may find of interest.”
Behind him, his men visibly relaxed as it didn’t look as if a fight was going to take place.
“Perhaps,” agreed Seth. “Unfortunately, my master is a dealer in fine wines. He recently received word that one of unique quality has been made available, and it is to that aim that I am here.”
“Then you would wish to inquire further south in Hylith,” Garron stated. “If you’re going to find what you are looking for, it would be there.”
“So we understand,” Seth replied. He then looked to the armed men behind Garron before returning his gaze to him. “Do we have leave to stay the night in your fine village?”
“Provided you cause no trouble,” he replied. When Seth agreed, he glanced back to his men and nodded his head. At that, his men broke ranks and began heading back into the village.
Seth waved for his brother and the others to ride forward. “This is my brother Soth,” he said to Garron once his brother had joined him.
“Good to meet you,” Garron said. Then he saw the staff in Kevik’s hand. Turning back to Seth, he arched an eyebrow and asked, “A magic user?”
“Yes,” replied Seth. “My master had heard there were troubles down here and provided my brother and I with an escort.”
Riyan did his best to hide the grin that unexpectedly tried to break through.
“You have little to fear in Sterrith,” Garron said. “So long as your purpose is peaceful.”
“That is good to hear,” Seth replied. “Does your village have an inn?”
Garron nodded. “We have two. The Hollow Tree and The Green Bough.”
“Which one would you suggest?” Soth asked.
“Oh no,” he said with a grin. “I’ll not do that again.”
“Do what again?” Seth asked.
“I know both innkeepers,” he explained. “And the last time I suggested one over the other, it caused me no end of trouble. They are both good, clean inns.”
Seth laughed. “I understand,” he said. “And I thank you.”
“Behave yourselves and we’ll get along fine,” Garron told them.
Seth gave him a nod. Then he glanced back at his brother and the rest and indicated for them to follow as he proceeded into the village.
The villagers, after realizing the new arrivals weren’t there to make trouble, returned to going about their tasks, though they kept an eye on them. The village itself was larger than average, and in Bart’s opinion was about to develop into a town.
“Nice place,” commented Riyan as he gazed around at the clean streets. The general mood of the villagers was upbeat.
First inn they came to was The Hollow Tree. Out front hung a sign depicting a hollowed out tree wherein a sleeping man stood upright. As they stopped near the front, Bart said to Seth, “Go in and see about getting some rooms.”
The rest dismounted as Seth went inside.
“Are you from the north?”
Riyan glanced down and discovered the question came from a boy of about six summers. “Yes we are,” he replied.
The boy immediately spat on him and raced away.
“What was that about?” Riyan asked in shock.
A woman who had been talking with another nearby said, “His father was killed by a soldier from the north.”
“Oh,” Riyan said. “Was his father a Raider?”
The woman’s face turned into a grimace. “Certainly not!” she replied. “His father was a merchant who objected when soldiers were going to help themselves to his goods.”
“That’s a lie!” Chyfe exclaimed. “Our soldiers would never do such a thing!”
“Believe it young man,” the woman said. “While his father’s life was pouring from him, the soldiers ravaged his mother and sister.” She glanced to Chyfe as she said, “His sister was only fourteen at the time.”
Another woman next to the first added, “If he hadn’t been hiding in the wagon, they would have found him too. He was the only one who survived.”
Riyan came and laid a hand on Chyfe’s shoulder. “Easy,” he whispered in his ear. “True or not, we can’t have you causing trouble.” Across the street, five of the armed men who had been with Garron were watching them. One held a bow.