Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (43 page)

Derek was glad Garrick had walked away. What kind of man could kill his own father and then laugh about it? Perhaps, as bad as what Garrick had done, that was not what was bothering him. How could he so badly have misjudged the man's personality? He would have sworn that Garrick was a friendly person who could have been swayed with reason and a request for compassion, but that idea had been clearly dispelled. He had actually liked the man. It was true, that he had found Garrick rather annoying, but he rather preferred thinking of him as a bumbling oaf, than as a cold murderer.

Chapter 18

It was early afternoon when they approached the gates into Helum. Flare had been getting slightly anxious for the last several days. The roads had become busier the closer they got to the city, and that had made the traveling much slower. Being so close to Helum, and having to plod along behind a farmer's wagon had annoyed him to no end, but he had silently endured. But that wasn't really what was bothering him, and he knew it. How were the others doing? Were they delayed? Surely, none of them would be late. These thoughts kept running through his head, and he kept viciously shoving them away. Worry could eat up a man.

The streets into the city were overflowing with people, and they actually had to be funneled down to go through the city gates. Guards stood by on either side of the gates, calmly watching the mass of humanity streaming past. There was nothing they could do to stop anyone; they probably couldn't even slow it down. There were three small gates into the city along this road, the two on the left were allowing people to go in, and the one on the right was only allowing people to leave. It made sense. There were so many travelers here for the festival that a lot of them would be sleeping outside the city. Some would be staying at inns in the nearby villages, and others would be sleeping under the stars. But either way, they needed access to the city, and then a way back out again.

The three guardians' had stopped just outside the gates, and were gathered just off the side of the road. “How are we going to stay together in that?” Philip asked.

Flare was silent for a moment, watching all the people flowing past. “Well, let's tie the horses together, and then we'll have to try our luck.”

“I don't know,” Atock said. “I mean, I'm not even sure how we'll get back into line.”

Just then, several scruffy looking boys, who were on foot, tried to force themselves in front of a heavily laden wagon, even though there wasn't room. A large man sitting beside the driver didn't even pause, but lashed out with a whip, and two of the boys fell back into the throng, screaming, a blood trail running along the sides of their faces. The two city guards nearest to the wagon, simply laughed and jeered at the boys.

Grimacing, Flare looked over to Atock, “If it comes to it, kick or use the butts of your swords.” He looked back at the crowd, and he could still see one of the boys with the blood running down their faces, “Just let's not seriously hurt anyone. Okay?”

Several minutes later, their horses all tied together, they moved back toward the line of people. “Hey, what do you think you're doing?” A young man called out. He had the dark hair and dark complexion of the southern kingdoms, and he wore the rough clothes of a farmer.

Flare, who was riding in the front, did not answer the man, but instead drew his sword, and at the same time nudged his horse forward. He heard Atock and Philip both drawing their swords as well. A moment ago, the people were packed together so tight that he would have swore there was no room for them. But now, at the sight of the three sword wielding men on horseback, the crowd seemed to part open, and they took a spot in the slow moving throng of people.

He heard mutterings and could see people shaking their fists at them, but all of those people were far enough back, out of their reach. All of the people that were near their horses were keeping their mouths shut, and their eyes away from the riders. But, just to be safe, Flare kept his sword out, resting it across his saddle.

Several minutes later, after being funneled through the tiny city gates, the street opened back up, and the crowd seemed to surge away from them. Flare rode a good twenty yards ahead, and then moved to the entrance of a small alleyway, to get out of the path of the throng. “Everything okay?” He asked.

“Just great.” Philip answered, rather sullenly. “Why are all these people here?” He stared back out into the mass of people. Most of them had the darker complexion and hair of the southern kingdoms, but every now and then a person with blond hair or light skin could be seen. The edges of the too narrow streets were lined with merchants and entertainers, each shouting out for the passersby to come and see their wares or show. Most of the merchants had their goods laid out on tables, and some of them had even been smart enough to hire extra men to help watch for thieves. The entertainers were a mixed bunch, with some of them having a small tent or divider to keep from giving a free show to those on the street. Others just did their performance right there out in the open. Intermingled with the merchants, and entertainers, were the cooks. Various types of meat could be seen roasting over fires, and the smells were simply wonderful.

Flare grinned, “Did you forget about the winter festival? Farmers and merchants for hundreds of miles around will be here for a week or so. And of course, many travelers will be here for the festival, not to mention the shopping and feasting.”

“Good!” Atock exclaimed. “I could use a relaxing time, and perhaps some time with the ladies.”

Philip grimaced at Atock. “Pathetic! Is that all you can thing about?”

Atock answered with a perfectly serious expression on his face, “Yes. Why?”

Chuckling, Flare moved back out into the stream of people, “Come on, let's find an inn.”

 A little over an hour later, Flare was no longer in a laughing mood. Finding an inn at Festival time was proving harder than he had thought. At the first two inns, the innkeepers had turned them away without even bothering to look at them. The third innkeeper had laughed heartily when Flare had asked about getting two rooms. He hoped that they would have better luck at the fourth inn; it was named 'The Dragon Scale'.

Like most inns in Helum, the inn was built in a horse shoe shape, with the open part of the horse shoe opening onto the street. A large gate was standing open for now, as the guardians rode through into the large courtyard. A smaller gate stood opposite the street, and led to the stable area. A long porch was on their left, and a hitching post was besides the porch. There were several doors around the courtyard that had signs hanging above them. Flare noticed kitchen, tavern, baths, and register. He moved toward the door under the sign that read register, hoping that this inn might have a room or two for rent. The two story building had small balconies overlooking the courtyard, but at the moment the balconies were empty. In fact, the only other person in the courtyard was a dwarf. The dwarf stood at the end of the porch, where he had apparently been mending some pots, but he stood frozen now, staring at the three newcomers. The pots were all but forgotten in his hands. Like all dwarves, he was short, but heavily muscled. His nose seemed oversized for his face, and a long reddish beard hung down past his belt.

Flare nodded at the dwarf and rode toward the hitching post. He had only met a few dwarves in his life and they had seemed to be a deeply stand-offish people. Reaching the post, he dismounted and flipped the reins around the pole. Atock and Philip moved a little farther past Flare, and they too dismounted and began tying up their horses. Flare turned from the hitching pole, and jumped back in surprise, his hand reaching for his sword. The dwarf that had been at the end of the porch had silently moved right up beside them, and was standing at his elbow.

“What the?” Flare started to shout, but the dwarf hushed him.

“I think that you should get back on your horses and be on your way.” The dwarf said in a deep grave voice.

Flare, his hand still resting on his sword hilt, exchanged a look with Philip and Atock. “Now, why would you say that? You know that's not a very nice way to welcome us to this fine city.” He said in a jovial manner.

The dwarf looked from side to side, as if he expected someone to be watching them from the flower pots along the porch. “I recognize you.” He said quietly, looking back at the guardians.

Flare once again exchanged looks with Philip and Atock, but the dwarf's words had made them a lot more nervous. “What?”

The dwarf leaned closer. “You're lucky. The innkeeper just left, he's heading over to his mistress' house. If he had been here, he would have recognized you too. You have to get out of here.”

Flare was fighting a rising sense of panic now. What was the dwarf talking about? How could anyone here recognize him? “Explain what you mean.”

The dwarf grimaced, showing teeth as he did so. “How did you make it this far, being that stupid?” The dwarf looked around again, “The city guards came by this very morning with descriptions of you and they're offering enough gold to make a priest turn you in.”

“Descriptions of us?” Flare repeated, somewhat taken aback.

“That's what I said. Isn't it?” The dwarf growled. “Only there were a bunch of other descriptions too. Maybe another ten or so.”

Flare took an involuntary step toward the dwarf, grabbing him by the elbow. “What other descriptions?” Surely, the dwarf was mistaken, who could be looking for them? And did he say another ten or so? Could that be the other guardians?

“I don't know. The rest of them would blend in a little bit better than you; except maybe the elven magic user and the giant barbarian.”

Shock settled over him and seeped into his bones, and Flare could feel his whole body tingling. “We've been set up.” He said to no one in particular.

The dwarf nodded, pushing Flare toward his horse. “Oh, you figured that out quick. Didn't you?”

Reluctantly, Flare turned and remounted his horse. He still felt like he was moving in a dream. “But where are we to go?”

“Go back north out of the city. After you cross the second bridge, there is an empty field off to your right. Several hundred yards from the road, there is a large clump of trees with a hollow in the middle. Go there, and I will come for you tonight.”

Flare looked down at the dwarf, “I don't want to sound ungrateful, but how do we know that we can trust you?”

The dwarf smiled, “Wising up, are you? Well, if I wanted to turn you over, I would do it right now. In fact, I wouldn't have bothered telling you about the reward on your heads, but you have to go now. I will explain later tonight. And for goodness sake, pull that cloak closer to you. All of you!”

Stunned, Flare did as he was told, drawing his cloak together, and pulling the hood over his head. Who was it? The church? Maybe some of the Telurian nobility? They moved their horses back into the crowded street, heading back north. Atock and Philip were both behind him, and Flare led them towards the gates as fast as he could. On the way into the city, all the people looked friendly and festive, but now he saw undue interest in every face they passed, and he had to resist the urge to keep looking behind him. He hoped and believed that it was just his suspicion and fear getting to him. Surely, all these people were not looking for them.

The ride back out of the city was pure torture. It seemed to be twice as far going out as it had been on the way in, and the flow of people was against them, which also slowed them down. The three guardians kept their cloaks pulled up, and Flare and Atock kept their cowls pulled low.

Shouts of amazement rang out from a small group of onlookers, as a slim sweaty man swallowed a sword and then pulled it back out again. Flare and the other guardians barely noticed. Their attention was on the crowd, scanning for anyone who might have recognized them. They rode slowly, albeit as fast as they could.

After what seemed like forever, although it couldn't have been more than an hour, they reached the gates that led back to the northern road. The two gates on the right, still looked like they were being overrun by a mob of people, and even the smaller gate letting people back out was quite busy. They joined the line of slow moving people, who were waiting their turn to get back to the road.

An old man, who reeked of ale, leaned against the right side of Flare's horse. Looking up, he slurred, “Dis Ale's good.” Hiccupping as he spoke.

Flare opened his mouth to retort, when he felt a hand brushing his packs just behind his saddle. Yanking his knife free, he spun to face the would-be thief.

As fast as Flare was, Philip was faster. He had spotted the old man edging closer to Flare's horse, and suspecting what was about to happen, he nudged his horse up on Flare's left. As soon as the old man had leaned against Flare's horse, another man had moved close and reached for Flare's saddle bags. Philip jerked his sword free and rested it on the man's neck, the edge of the blade just barely breaking the skin. If either man moved suddenly, the blade would slice the thief's neck wide open. The thief seemed to sense his predicament, and he froze, looking up at the two men.

Flare was surprised to see the man already caught by Philip, but pleased by it as well. He glanced up, noticing that the other thief, the old man who smelled like ale, had disappeared. Also, the crowd had parted around them, leaving them in a small island, out of the stream of people.