The Fur Trader (6 page)

Kiska moved in closer. William’s horse whinnied and trotted away, glancing nervously over its shoulder. William stood still as a tree. Kiska came within a few yards and sniffed the air.

Garrin laughed softly and broke the tension with a sharp whistle and a quick double-clap of his hands.

“Back off now,” he told Kiska. The split-tail broke her gaze and turned as if now entirely disinterested in the newcomer. “She likes to make sure she is number two in the pecking order, that’s all,” Garrin explained. “To your credit, most would have turned and run. You did well.”

William nodded and wiped his hands on his sides.

“Well, I am sure if she wanted to make a meal of me, there wouldn’t be much I could do to convince her otherwise.”

Garrin let out a hearty chuckle. “No, I suspect not.”

“Listen,” William said with sudden earnestness in his voice. “I have a very simple proposition for you. My nephew and I are scheduled to meet with relatives in Brywood. We need a guide to lead us in the right direction.”

“Brywood?” Garrin repeated. “You would have done better to skirt the southern coast and then travel around the Dryden Range entirely.”

William shook his head. “It is a matter of life and death,” he said. “We have family matters that must be resolved as soon as possible. Skirting the coast would take weeks, maybe even months longer than the time we have available. We must cut across Geberron Pass.”

Garrin folded his arms and narrowed his eyes on William. Brywood was not only on the other side of the Dryden Range, it was beyond the Seron River, the northern border of the kingdom. Garrin glanced to the young boy and noted the somber expression on the youth’s face. There was something that wasn’t quite right about this pair, but Garrin couldn’t put his finger on it.

“What’s so urgent that you would rather chance death in Geberron Pass than take the much safer route along the coast?”

William cleared his throat and glanced back at the boy before answering.

“Listen, I’ll pay extra for discretion. We have family business that is most urgent in Brywood. We are meeting a cousin of mine there. Get us safely there and your share will be five thousand gold crowns.”

Garrin blanched. That was several lifetimes’ worth of payment for a man of Garrin’s station. For all his ten years in the Frontier Legion, he had only ever earned a tenth of that. He didn’t believe the bit about family business for one moment, but the offer was too good not to at least feel out.

“Half now,” Garrin said.

William shrugged. “Actually, I was going to offer three thousand now, and the final two thousand upon safe delivery to Brywood. Once there, I can even arrange a place for you to stay and resupply before your return journey.”

Garrin hadn’t expected that. He had never haggled with anyone who would come to terms on the first number offered, much less anyone who would offer better terms than requested. However, William cleared the air of any doubt when he reached to a large coin purse and tossed it over to Garrin. The large trapper nearly stumbled back a step when he caught the hefty bag in his hands. He opened the drawstring and saw that the bag was filled with large, gold coins stamped with the value of ten crowns each. Something in the back of his mind told him to pass the offer up. It wasn’t smart. Winter was nearly in full swing and the pass was going to be a nightmare.

Then again, if he stuck to the ruins and the caves, perhaps he could make it through with them. Another thought crept into his mind as he looked up from the bag and narrowed his eyes on the boy. The youth wore an expression he had seen before, many times in fact, on the faces of those about to be attacked by Tarthuns on the frontier. The boy needed help.

Garrin decided to play along for now and see what he could figure out. Just then, the coffee pot whistled from inside the cabin.

“Come inside,” Garrin offered. “I have coffee on the stove. You can leave the horses out here by the workshop. Kiska and Rux won’t bother them.”

Garrin went into the cabin and waited for the others. To his surprise, Rux and Kiska followed William and Richard into the cabin. Now Garrin knew for sure that something was not right. The split-tails would never willingly come in unless they sensed danger, or if perhaps Garrin tricked them with fresh rabbit, but since there was no rabbit now, he knew the split-tails were here for other reasons.

“Help yourself,” Garrin said as he motioned to the pot. “I need to put on my proper clothes.” Garrin removed his coat and hung it on the hook near the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Richard staring at him. Garrin turned to ask why the boy was staring open-mouthed and wide-eyed, but then Richard pointed.

“What happened to you?” Richard asked.

Garrin looked down and began chuckling when his eyes found the long, purple scars across the left side of his abdomen.

“This is from a bear. We had a disagreement of sorts.”

“A disagreement?” Richard echoed.

Garrin nodded. “He thought I was dinner, and I thought he was dinner. I won, but he gave me this first.”

William whistled through his teeth as he poured a bit of coffee into a mug.

“I assume I can pour some for you as well?” William offered.

Garrin nodded. He turned his back to his guests and searched for his shirt, but that only caused Richard to gasp.

“What about your back?” the boy asked. “Did the bear do that?”

“Nope,” Garrin replied without turning back around. “That was given to me by a Tarthun swordsman.”

“You fought the Tarthuns?” Richard asked.

Garrin snorted and turned around. “All young men serve in the army,” he said. “I served ten years in the Frontier Legion.” Garrin pointed up to a round, purple scar on his right shoulder. “Took an arrow to the shoulder in my first year. Broke a few ribs fighting in the eastern plains my second year.” Garrin bent down and pulled up his right pant leg. “Never could figure out what bit me here,” he said as he pointed out a crescent-shaped, jagged scar along his calf. “But I got this my third year while we were crossing some river delta by some caves I don’t remember the name of.” Garrin stood up and turned his right arm over to reveal a long, faded scar along the underside of his forearm. “Got this from a welk two weeks before I got my discharge orders from the legion.”

“What’s a welk?” Richard asked.

“Nasty monster that you never want to trifle with,” Garrin said quickly.

“So after ten years in the army, you thought a life as a trapper to be a fitting retirement?” William asked as he stepped over and handed Garrin a steaming cup of coffee.

“It’s nice not to have others telling you what to do all the time,” Garrin replied evenly, looking squarely into William’s blue-gray eyes. “What about you, did you serve?”

William nodded his head. “Not in the Frontier Legion, but yes.”

“That’s right, I forgot nobles can choose softer assignments,” Garrin said. William bristled, but he didn’t respond to the insult. Instead, Garrin watched as William turned and walked back to the pot of coffee and poured himself some more.

“And you?” Garrin asked looking to Richard. “When do you begin your service?”

Richard screwed up his eyebrows and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know?” Garrin scoffed. “All boys begin service at the age of seventeen. Some as early as fifteen.” Then it hit him. The boy was about that age now. Garrin cocked his head to the side and glanced to William. “Is that it then?”

“Is what it?” William replied.

“Dodging military service? What’s the matter with your family, don’t have the right connections to pay for a soft assignment? What, did your father insult someone?” William frowned and looked to Richard. Richard clammed up and backed away from Garrin.

“We don’t want any trouble. If it’s all the same to you, I would prefer not to discuss our business.”

Garrin shook his head. “I have no love for the army, but I have to know what I am dealing with. You come here and offer me more wealth than I could earn in three lifetimes to take you across Geberron Pass, in winter no less, and you want me to believe you are just looking for a quick way to settle some business with your cousin?”

“Enough!” William yelled as he dropped the mug of coffee he was holding.

Kiska and Rux were up in front of Garrin in an instant, fangs bared and hackles raised. Richard yelped and shied away. William pulled a knife and stepped between Richard and the split-tails.

“No more talk of his family. His parents are dead, murdered last week. I am getting him out of here to safety with my cousin’s family, and that’s the end of it. I don’t care if you help us or not, but if you stand in my way, I will tear you apart.”

Garrin could sense the sincerity in William’s voice. He also saw that Richard was cowering behind his uncle. There was a relationship of trust there. Even if it didn’t smell exactly right to Garrin, the two appeared to be in on it together, whatever ‘it’ was.

“Boy, your parents are dead?” Garrin asked.

Richard whimpered and turned around.

William glowered at Garrin. “I said enough! Leave the boy alone, have you no heart?”

Garrin patted the air. “Rux, Kiska, down.” The two split-tails backed away, although Kiska made sure to keep her eyes on William the whole time. “If you are telling the truth, then I will help you, but I have to be sure.”

“What do you mean?” William asked.

Garrin moved to a wooden crate at the foot of his bed and retrieved a long, cylindrical canister. He turned around and slowly moved toward the table and set the canister down in front of William.

“What is that?” William asked.

“This will tell me if you are telling the truth,” Garrin replied evenly.

William glanced to the canister and then back to Garrin.

“You’re cracked aren’t you?”

Garrin shook his head. “Do you have any magical powers or artifacts?” Garrin asked.

William scrunched up his nose and shook his head.

“If I did, I wouldn’t be walking through the cursed snow now would I?”

“So that’s a ‘no’ then?”

William shouted, “Of course I don’t!”

Garrin nodded. He opened the top of the canister.

“If you are telling the truth, then I will help you. If not, then we have a serious problem on our hands.”

“And what, the can is going to explode if I have magic?”

“Something like that, yes,” Garrin said with a nod.

William laughed and put his knife away. “That can is no more magical than I am a wizard. Tell me plainly, will you help us or not?”

Garrin held a finger up and watched the canister. After several moments of silence, a small, pink, whiskered nose popped up out of the opening. A white, furry head rose up with round ears on top and keen, blue eyes that stared at William.

“That’s a weasel,” William said. “Come, I grow tired of these games.”

“No, it’s a Dryfoot mink,” Garrin countered.

“Those are extinct!” William exclaimed.

Garrin shook his head. “Not all of them. This one here is named Kaspar.” Garrin clicked his tongue and Kaspar jerked his head around to look at Garrin. Another click of the tongue and Kaspar leapt out of the canister and onto the table. His nose twitched as he sniffed the air. “You do know that Dryfoot minks are able to detect magic in living and inanimate objects, don’t you?”

“Garrin, I-I told you m-most of the truth,” William stammered. “I have no magic, but the boy does.” Garrin narrowed his eyes on William. “That is why he is in danger. His magic is his curse.”

“Magic runs in the blood,” Garrin said. “If he is your nephew, then you also have some magic.”

William shook his head. “No, Richard’s magic comes from his father’s side. My sister and I have no magic in our veins.”

“No more!” Richard yelled suddenly. He came out from behind his uncle with red, tear-filled eyes. His hands came up and flames appeared in his palms. “Let us go!” Richard let the flames loose through the air.

The Dryfoot mink reacted quickly, quenching the flames with a water ball that shot out of its mouth and then soaked Richard’s face. The boy sucked in a breath and wiped his face. Garrin made another click with his tongue and Kaspar leapt back into his canister, turning back and angrily chattering at Richard.