Following his finger, we found larger buildings, ones in far better condition. Part of the way up there stood a barren black scar. All the buildings in a five-block area were gone, leaving behind ashes and burned timber. “I see.”
He shrugged. “City guards are at the upper gates to keep us down penned down here. But before we reach the upper city, the ex-guards, ex-military, and ex-constables will capture us, take all we have, and ransom what’s left.”
“What about down here?” Kendra asked.
He spat. “Here the old rules still hold. Selling and buying are sacred and free to all. Been that way since the first building went up. Not that it means much if one of them catches you out of sight of others. Stay near the ship is my advice.”
Speaking of being out of sight, I turned. Will was back there, or he was supposed to be. If he was, my respect for him increased. We moved on to another stall and another. They featured broken pottery, jugs with broken handles, mismatched plates, and a seller in a stall with a few dull knives displayed. We circled the others and returned to the one with used clothing.
Kendra and the girls pawed through the offerings while the cripple and I kept watching. Not even a stray dog moved. In observing the thin people, the condition of their clothing, the ramshackle houses, and despondent attitudes, my guess would be any loose animals had long ago been eaten. The seller of meat cooked on sticks across the square wouldn’t be getting our business.
The girls found hats referred to as bonnets by the seller. They had short bills and tied under the chin. Still, they kept much of the direct sun off their faces. Kendra whooped for joy when she found a hat made of straw for me. It was mismatched, meaning it was so poorly woven that it was wider on one side than the other. The straw was dry and brittle. I placed it on my head, and it fit, if a bit loose, to the joy of all three girls.
Kendra found scarves for all of us. I didn’t understand why she wanted them until I noticed a seller wearing a similar one. It reached from wrist to around her neck, back down to the other wrist, protecting the back of the neck, shoulders, and bare arms from the sun. It was loose enough to remain cool, provide shade, and made of lightweight material.
I stood aside while they rummaged through the rest of the inventory. On impulse, I asked the cripple, “You got a name?”
“Call me Flier. Time was, I ran as fast as birds fly.”
“Do you travel?”
“Used to.”
“A map on the ship showed a river located to the west.” I pointed, where the river should be.
“The Trager River, same name as the city. You can see the mouth of it from your ship if you look that way,” Flier said.
“The map showed it begins high up in the mountains.”
“Up near Vin Pass.”
“I assume the other river on the other side of the pass is the Vin?”
He chuckled and said, “Want to guess where it goes?”
“Ever been there?” I asked.
He gave me an odd sort of wistful look. Then, his expression eased. “I was born in Vin. If my leg was up to it, I’d go back. My family is there, a good place to live. Not like this dead place at all.”
The girls were about finished and were counting out small coins to the shopkeeper, but Flier still puzzled me. “Why’d you run to earn your name?”
“Messenger for the King’s Army of Vin. That was when we still had one, and I was young. I used to carry messages from Vin to Trager and back, used that mountain pass a dozen times.”
The girls carried their purchases to where we stood, and we walked down the slope towards the ship again. We wouldn’t be eating in any restaurants if they had any, and there seemed no reason to stay ashore.
Flier walked ahead and suddenly pulled to an abrupt halt. He turned to us and shouted, “Run!”
Four men stepped from behind the corner of a building ahead, each with a club of some sort in his hand. Two clubs were little more than sticks, another appeared to be the handle of a shovel or rake and the last a stout length of square oak. Their clothing was filthy, torn and patched, and hung on their thin frames.
Kendra said in a soft voice, “More of them behind us. It’s a trap.”
My concentration was on those ahead. Kendra would have to hold off those behind. Besides, those in front were closer and moving directly at us in a shambling run. I glanced at the three behind, twice as far away and moving slower. Behind them, another shape slipped from doorway to alley, always out of sight and always coming at us. No, it was only three of them, and behind was Will. They had no idea he was there as I slipped my blade free and faced the four in front. Between Will and Kendra, those behind stood little chance. Will would probably take out one or two before they realized he was there.
Flier moved off to my left a few steps but didn’t retreat. He stood on his good leg and pulled the crutch free. He held it across his body like a staff, ready to punch, swing, or defend. I felt certain that if he chose to try to slip past the men advancing, they would have allowed it.
Instead of waiting for them to reach us, I moved ahead where my sword had space to swing without accidentally striking one of the girls who were terrified. Using a sword properly required room for not only the blade but dancing feet to misdirect. They surged ahead as they attacked. They came as one, shouting and yelling. That caused so much noise that those coming from behind had no idea Will was rushing up behind them under cover of the buildings and noise. My first slash cut one high on his arm, almost to his shoulder, a sliding cut of my blade that bit deep into the muscle.
My training kept me from stabbing. Too often a blade stabbed is reflexively grabbed by a dying man, or it gets stuck inside a body as it falls forward, ripping it from the swordsman’s hand. I sliced a return swing to greet the next man, cutting another man high on his chest, from one side to another. Two down as I sidestepped and looked behind.
Will swung his sword low, cutting across the back of a leg. Looking ahead again, Flier swung his crutch and caught a man charging at me and ignoring him. The crutch struck right under his chin, on his unprotected neck. He fell forward, determined to take another breath, but was unsuccessful. The last man saw all three of his fellow attackers down, and he spun and ran. As he did, Flier’s crutch swung again and caught him with a solid blow to his head right above his ear. He fell like a piece of split firewood after a wood chopper’s ax struck. I spun, expecting to join Kendra in another fight. I was wrong.
Of the three who had rushed her from behind, two were on the ground, writhing in pain. She stood over one, her boot on his neck as she reached down and pulled one of her new blades free from his stomach. Another other wore her blade high on his thigh, the blade had penetrated nearly half its length. She moved to him and pulled the second knife free, to the wails and protests of the attacker. Kendra hadn’t been very gentle in recovering them. The last man lay at Will’s feet as he wiped his blade clean.
Will walked closer to us and shook Flier’s hand as he muttered something to him I didn’t hear. Only then, did I reach out with my mind and find my small-magic worked. Looking up, more from habit than any other reason, I spotted the far-off dragon approaching. Turning away, I paused and looked up again. It was a Wyvern, not Kendra’s dragon. The shape of the body was too thin. Was my magic sourced from it, or Kendra’s dragon? I didn’t know.
Emma and Anna were pale, silent, and scared as they huddled together. When I spread my arms to hug them, both backed away. Neither wanted any part of me. Glancing at my hand, my sword was still clutched around the hilt and ready to slash. Kendra spoke to them and finally managed to calm them down slightly.