Read The Troven (Kingdom of Denall Book 1) Online
Authors: Eric Buffington
At mid-day they stopped at the side of the road for a break. Their lunch consisted of dried meat, water, and some fresh fruit they picked off the trees and bushes near the road. Eating gave them the encouragement and energy to get up and move forward. Just as they did, Garin perked up his head. Farin focused his hearing down the road and caught the sound of wagon wheels. Over a distant hill Farin saw a cloud of dust and he pointed. “A wagon’s coming. Can you see anything?”
The red dots next to his eyes flared to life as Kaz zoomed in on the coach. “It’s a stage coach; it has some baggage on the top, but it looks like it’s not filled to capacity. The driver is speaking to the people in the coach. They seemed to be in a hurry about something, but I’m not sure what it is. I’ve never seen people ride a coach with their heads out the openings to talk with the driver before.” Kaz shrugged his shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t care what they are excited about, I’m just glad to finally see someone.”
As the coach neared, the boys waved their arms, and it slowed down. From under the brim of his sweat-stained brown hat the driver looked down on them. The man had a beard that was well overdue for a trim, and the boys could see that he was missing several teeth as he gave them a reassuring smile. “We're heading to Dungan. Want a lift?”
Farin’s heart sank, and he felt Kaz slump more heavily on his shoulder. The one place they could get the care they needed, the one place to which they had a ride, the one place they could not go. “How far are we from Hillside?” Garin asked hopefully.
“We left about an hour ago,” the stage driver answered. “It's about twelve miles down that road. Walking at a good pace I guess you'll get there before nightfall.” With his answer their hopes crashed.
“Please, sir. We need to get to Hillside as soon as possible. Drams attacked us on the road, my friend is injured. We can pay you for transportation to Hillside,” Garin offered hopefully, holding out a coin in his hand.
Perhaps the mention of earning some money perked his interest because the coach driver turned to his patrons. “Is there anyone who can't spare some time to take these boys closer to Hillside?” Some heads appeared in the window of the coach and Farin saw men who looked like they were workers. Perhaps one of these men would work on his father’s farm. Some of them expressed words of sympathy, while others looked completely uninterested in the turn of events. “Well I guess that settles it, we'll make a detour through Hillside, again, on our way to Dungan,” the driver announced.
The coach driver pulled the break and jumped down to help the boys load into the coach. He held out a hand for support and helped Kaz into the coach. “Thank you, sir.” Kaz said while giving him a winning smile. “I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't come.”
“Up we go!” he said as he helped Farin into the coach. Then to Kaz, “No need to go on about it. We'll have you taken care of in short order.”
As Garin stepped up into the now crowded coach, the driver started to close the door. “Watch your fingers, son. Last thing we need is another injury.” He smiled and closed the door as the passengers found room for everyone.
The driver nimbly got back up onto the coach and grabbed the reins. The wagon began moving down the road, bobbing back and forth as they headed toward Dungan. Farin leaned out the window and craned his neck to look down the road. He sat back down and looked at the other men in the carriage. “So, what are you doing when you get to Dungan?” he asked, wondering if any of them had been hired by his father.
“You know,” one of the large men said with a gruff voice. “Working in the fields and farms, maybe at the lumber yard.”
Farin shook his head, “There’s no lumber yard in Dungan. There’s not much of anything there if you ask me.”
The man looked to his companions questioningly, then shrugged his shoulders. “I guess we’ll just look for work in the fields.”
“Well, if you tell Mr. Segris that you met his sons on the road, he’ll probably find something for you to do,” Kaz added.
“Mr. Who?” one of the men asked.
“That’s odd,” Garin chimed in. “There isn’t a lot of freelance work available in Dungan. I’m sure you would have heard of the Segris farm if you are heading to Dungan for work.”
Farin looked at his brother and saw an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Garin thought something was amiss. Farin began really observing the men in the carriage with him.
They were all well-built and could work on a farm, but now that he thought about it, they were not dressed like farm workers; they looked more like ragged wanderers. He also noticed that they each carried long hunting knives, and most of them had a hand resting on the hilt. “So, when are we turning this wagon around?” Farin asked as they continued down the road west.
Instead of an answer, the man who sat next to Farin began pulling out his knife.
Kaz was the first to react. He lashed out at the nearest passenger in the coach. He struck the man on his right so hard, he heard a cracking sound. The man was clearly stunned.
Farin cocked his arm back, ready to punch the passenger next to him, but Garin held his arm from moving. Farin looked around the coach and saw that the other 'passengers' were all holding their weapons up, ready to attack. The man next to Kaz had recovered enough now to look Kaz right in the eye. He pressed down hard on Kaz's thigh. A deep red blotch appeared on Kaz's pants where the man was pressing.
“Is there more fight in you?” the criminal asked as he eased the pressure on Kaz's leg. Kaz winced in pain. “Didn't think so.” His wicked smile widened as he saw the pain he had caused.
“Stop it!” Garin shouted at the bandit, but the man just reached out and cuffed Garin across the head.
The bandit beside Farin pressed the point of his knife into Farin’s side. “Don’t even think about moving.” His soft, evil voice made Farin want to throw up, but all he could do was sit silently.
“Nobody speaks a word, or I'll finish the job on your friend's leg.” The man who was speaking wrapped a leather band around Kaz's eyes and the other passengers produced their own bands for Garin and Farin. They covered the boys’ eyes and ears as best they could. The carriage turned to the left off the road, and they bounced in the rough field for several silent minutes that seemed like hours. Kaz, from time to time, would moan as they hit an unusually rough patch. This continued until the coach came to a sudden halt.
The bandits removed the blindfolds and shoved Garin and Farin out of the coach onto the hard earth. Kaz was thrown roughly from the coach and fell into unconsciousness when he landed squarely on his injured side.
“I don't know who you think you are,” Farin started. He stopped when the coach driver drew a bow from the packs he had taken from the boys to store at the top of the coach, and pointed it right at his chest.
Frozen with fear, Farin stared wide-eyed at the arrowhead he felt sure would be the last thing he saw in life, then Garin stepped in front of him. “What do you want from us?” he asked.
“This is a nice bow,” the man began. “We’ll take it. Let's see what else they have for us.” The thieves took the boys' weapons and backpacks, and then they began searching the boys while the marks on the driver’s ears flared red as he kept a look out.
One man searched Kaz while the other two grabbed Farin. “I don’t have anything,” he insisted, but they turned his pockets inside out, then moved on to Garin.
As one of the large men reached for Garin’s pocket, he slashed with his father’s knife. The knife left a long cut on the robber’s forearm. The bandit retaliated with a solid punch that knocked Garin to the ground and made blood run down his nose. The man grabbed Garin's knife and quickly patted him down for anything else of value. When his eye fell upon Gran’s necklace hanging around Garin’s neck, his eyes widened for just a moment, and he took a quick look around. Seeing that the other bandits were busy harassing the other boys or getting the horses turned around, he ripped the necklace off Garin’s neck and quickly bent down to slip it into a pocket hidden in the inside seam of his pant leg. Then he dropped the boy to the ground, kicking him in the stomach.
Unexpectedly, the coach driver's head snapped up and he looked out into the distance.
“Let's get out of here!” he shouted as he pointed out into the distance. Farin watched as the men loaded back up into the wagon, which was now pointing toward a small path that would carry them deeper into the woods. He focused his hearing in the direction the driver had been looking. Suddenly he knew why they had broken off their activities so abruptly. He heard horses, and they were coming fast.
The man who had taken Gran’s necklace threw Garin a wink, and with a triumphant look, climbed into the coach, which took off as quickly as it could go.
Knowing that they could not move Kaz out of the horses' path, and with Garin still nursing his bloody nose, Farin stood up so he could clearly be seen and braced himself for whatever these horsemen would do. The fact that whoever was coming was intimidating enough to send a small band of thieves running in the opposite direction without putting up any fight made him nervous. Garin slowly stood up next to Farin, and the two looked toward the approaching horses.
“How's the nose?” Farin asked as he put his arm around his brother for support.
Garin looked over at Farin and smiled. “It was worth it.” He then held out the picture of Fenn. “They didn't get everything.”
Farin shook his head.
“Well, you'd better put that somewhere safe. These ones might not be as generous.”
When the horses came into view, Farin felt some relief. The patrol of a half dozen soldiers were riding in rigid formation, and they were all dressed alike. The lead horseman wore a solid breastplate that reflected the sunlight.
“They look like soldiers,” Farin remarked.
Garin squinted and shaded his eyes with his hand. “I think they have a blue bear crest. Farin, am I seeing things?”
“Or is that the crest of Omer?” Farin finished Garin's thought.
They recognized the crest from the few times they had gone with their father to trade crops for Omer's wine. Baron Omer controlled Hillside’s surrounding area, and most of the Woller Plains, extending many miles in every direction away from his massive castle complex which, even after generations of expansions and additions, was still referred to simply as “the keep” in this region of Denall.
Omer had the best vineyards in all of Denall, not to mention the best of everything that was to be had through his extensive trade agreements. Although it cost him dearly, their father had willingly made the trip and paid the price for that wine that would only be opened on special occasions, though on the last trip he had groused all the way home about having to wait with twenty other similar farmers and merchants for a hearing with the steward. The regular schedule of trade interviews had been put on hold when a representative from the king’s guard had been ushered in to demand a tour of the barony to “establish the continued security contribution the barony was making to the realm.”
Now experiencing firsthand the efficacy of Baron Omer’s “contribution to the security of the realm,” Farin didn’t mind at all that they had been kept that entire day standing in the courtyard of Omer’s Keep. As the soldiers drew up in front of them, Garin fell to his knees, and in complete relief whispered under his breath, “We’re saved. We’re saved.”
As they drew near, the patrol leader held his arm up and brought it into a tight fist. In perfect unison, Omer's men came to an abrupt halt.
“What are your names and what is your business?” the hazel-eyed patrol leader asked them.
“I'm Farin, this is Garin and Kaz,” Farin answered, as he gestured to Kaz who was now awake, wincing as he held his leg. “We're from Dungan and headed to Hillside.”
“You're quite a bit out of your way,” he responded with a grin. “Hillside is that way, you know,” he pointed into the distance. “What are you doing out here?”
Garin explained about the coach ride while the man thoughtfully nodded and listened.
The man replied, “You're lucky we passed this way. There isn't a lot of traffic around here, so the bandits always prey on single travelers or small groups. We'll get you safely to Hillside. Stay there until you are healed up and then go home.” He motioned for three of his men to carry the travelers.
“Thank you, sir,” Farin replied.
“You can call me Commander Aldis,” the man responded with a tilt of his head. The three riders carefully lifted the injured boys while Commander Aldis urged his horse forward and rode next to the man who looked like the second in command. He leaned in close to his companion, but Farin’s heightened hearing picked up what he said.
“Don't know why all these kids are out on their way to Hillside.”
“What did you say?” Farin asked from behind his rider. “Excuse me, Commander Aldis, are there others going to Hillside? Did you find Bendar?”
“We picked him up yesterday. He was beat up pretty good. We dropped him off late last night at the Hillside Inn. I told him to stay there for at least a day or two ‘till he was fit for traveling. We’ve been tracking the bandits since that time, and that’s when we found you.”
“Can you take us to the inn?” Garin and Farin asked in unison.
Commander Aldis nodded his head and kicked the horse into a trot. “Let’s get you boys to Hillside.”