The small man behind the counter rang a bell. The front door clattered. The man glanced to his left, and there was another door. A swing-bar was in the vertical position. With a nudge, it moved and fell into the iron straps. His attention went to the far side of the room where a carriage door was closed.
I walked there as the second door rattled. An iron stave locked that one.
The pile of rope coils had provided all we needed and more to tie the giant of a man. We didn’t need him waking and getting free, and there was plenty of rope, so we tied his wrists and feet. Then his knees and elbows, a few loops around his neck and a convenient stanchion, and then one smaller rope tossed over a ceiling beam and around his waist.
The small man watched, his bell now on the counter. He didn’t ring it again.
Kendra went to the counter. She leaned across and asked the small man as calmly as if nothing had happened, “We’re also looking for a dog with one ear missing.”
“Out back,” he snorted as if that was funny.
“Thank you.” She backed away, as calmly as if she was in Crestfallen Palace.
Tater headed for the rear door, and I followed. I allowed the door to open a crack and we returned with Springer in his arms. Fresh blood covered his front leg. I may have felt sorry for the storekeeper until seeing the new injury on the dog. It looked like another dog had attacked him. There was also the look Elizabeth gave to the unconscious man. He was better off comatose and bleeding from the wound on his head than conscious and facing her.
She turned to the smaller man, who was no longer smiling. “That will cost you.”
“You don’t know what you’ve done. I’ll have all four of you hung on those rafters above you before the day is over.”
Elizabeth smiled wanly. “You are almost right. There will be a hanging from those rafters. Damon, tie him and put him with the other one.”
She made no more threats. We discovered most of our things still together, in a room at the top of the stairs. I strapped on my sword and knife and felt safer. Then reconsidered. Tater was owed a good knife since his was still in the bag of skin that had been Stata. Expecting he would refuse, I was surprised when he accepted my offer to give him mine. His grin was thanks enough. A cache of knives lay on a nearby table, and I helped myself to the best there was, not nearly as good as mine, but worth the trade no matter how I looked at the deal.
Elizabeth located our silver and gold in the rear of a drawer. She went right to it as if she could smell it. She never hesitated in taking it all, which was far more than we’d had. My crossbows were near a target made in the shape of a man. From the locations of the holes, someone had either been very good or stood very close. I suspected the later.
In a short time, we had taken what we believed ours, what we wanted and stood at the door, knowing those waiting outside would wonder and probably rush inside to find their boss tied on the floor—then they would be after us. Elizabeth said, “Damon, can you take care of this?”
My eyes closed, and feelings of tiredness and sleep washed over them. Both moved to the chairs and sat down. Their snores came easily as they were completely relaxed. Their dreams were filled with the sounds of cabinet doors closing, high winds shrieking, and trees falling. Neither would hear us and wake if we shouted at each other.
That was the sort of magic a mage might use, and the drain on me would cost fatigue. Giving Elizabeth a nod, she opened the front door and strolled out. Our horses were still where we’d left them. After one quick look at the guards to make sure they hadn’t awoken, we put our things on the packhorse, and Tater carried Springer in his arms. As we rode out of town, I placed the thoughts in the guard’s minds that they had a clear vision of us returning the way we entered the city. I did the same for the few people on the street as we rode in the opposite direction. Still, I’d keep a close watch on our backs. No doubt, a unit of the King’s Army would soon find themselves relocated to Dayton, along with their explicit orders from Elizabeth to arrest and close the store, and the men would hang. The army would probably try to return what they could to the rightful owners, and the entire population of Dayton would be better off and happier.
The road ahead followed the contours of the rolling hills. Despite the beauty of the area, my eyes were turned inward, thinking only about the confrontation behind us, and the private time I needed to speak with Kendra. She didn’t yet know she couldn’t go to Mercia—our destination, and I was too tired to ride.
Tater rode with the dog. Each time he spat, I tried to direct it to whatever target was within range. He left his mark on stumps, fence posts, rocks, and a cow’s head. I felt sorry for the cow and used a little more of the essence of the world to rid it from the cow, although a good question for me to follow up on would be to find where it had gone after leaving the cow. I’d hate to think there was some other innocent animal somewhere that got splattered.
The thought gave rise to a chuckle, one of the first in days, it seemed. Thinking of Tater took me to the odd expression he’d thrown my way while in the store. The incident with the hot knife my magic had caused, and after, when we’d discovered the guards sleeping when leaving. Elizabeth had asked me to take care of the guards before we left, and Tater had paid attention. He didn’t know what had happened but suspected I was at the center. That meant, carrying the thought to a logical conclusion, he would be watching me far closer.
He probably also wondered why we were not worried about pursuit. Elizabeth would have to speak to him and convince Tater to remain quiet, or I’d have to break one of the covenants the three of us made and use magic to suppress his memory. Earlier, I’d checked the flow of Springer’s bleeding, and took the time to check it again, with my mind. It seemed to be one of those injuries that bleed and bleed but are not really serious unless they are mine.
Even with the nap at the inn, we were still sleep deprived. It was late in the day, and we started looking for a place to spend the night. We went through two small villages, one with an inn, but I too had become leery of them. Tater was a good teacher.
A farmer walked along the road, a pitchfork over his shoulder, and the slump of a man who had worked hard all day. I dismounted and walked beside him. He was local and might know of a meadow beside a stream or clearing in the woods. He smiled a greeting and asked, “Do something for you?”
“We’re strangers, and inns are expensive. Do you know of a good place to spend the night?”
“Are you picky?”
Before answering, I thought about it. “Well, yes.”
He laughed. “Good answer. Me too. I have a barn. Smells like a barn, which some like. The hay is clean and stored in the loft, and it’s free.”
“I didn’t mean to impose. Is there a place where other travelers set up camp and spend the night around here?”
“Sure,” he said with a sly smile while jutting his chin on down the road. “It’s a good place right over that hill. But not when a storm’s coming in, and there’s a dry barn offered.” His chin now jutted to the jagged ridge of mountains in the distance, and the dark clouds hanging low. A bolt of lightning split the clouds, but it was too far off to hear the rumble. “Rain by dark. Looks like a bad one.”
“Can I offer you a ride to your barn?” I joked, ready to mount and help him up on Alexis behind me.
His eyes widened, and turned to Alexis in admiration, as well they should. Farmers know animals and seldom see good ones, let alone those royals own. In a single motion, he handed me his pitchfork and leaped into the saddle, misunderstanding my offer. “Mind if I trot her?”
The idea had been that I’d give him a ride—with me. Nearly speechless, the pitchfork went over my shoulder, as he’d carried it and said, “She loves to run, but not too far. We’ve come a long way.”