The Vlakan King (Book 3) (7 page)

"Not as much as I thought. The last couple trips were tense and dangerous. There were times I didn't think we'd survive but I enjoyed it. It was hard to see how life could be trying to act like normal folk. When we decided to settle down and start the inn I was as unsure about it as Ian was, but I never let him know that."

"Ha," grinned Brevin. "Smart woman. It was only about ten years ago that he told me he was content as an innkeeper."

"Well, that's good," said Jaele. "Were you ever married?"

"Me? Who'd marry me? Nah, I enjoy the travel, the food, the drink and the pretty wives of the innkeepers."

"You are a rouge," said Jaele warmly.

"How is the little one?"

"Aravan is wonderful. A cheery baby. He's napping upstairs. Hard to keep Tera from picking him up when he's awake."

"She's a good big sister."

Davan came back up the stairs.

"He's not down there. I checked the entire basement and walked around the building. The door was wide open."

"Hmm. Well, back to work. I'll check with some of the neighbors. Someone may have seen him. He's probably helping someone with a wagon or fence. Brevin, I'm glad you're back. How long are you staying?"

"Not sure. I'd like to stay a day or two to get my strength up. Another ale, Davan. So I'm sure you'll see me again, Jaele." He settled heavily in a chair.

"Any stew Davan?"

Jaele and Tera left the inn, walking around the perimeter then stopped at the basement door when Ferran had unloaded his wagon. She looked out at the surrounding area to see if she might spot a likely destination for Ian. Although it was early spring, it was dry and she couldn't see any obvious tracks. She walked across to the butcher's warehouse. Hargman saw her coming and walked out to greet her, his tunic splattered with blood. Tera stopped several feet away.

"Hi Jaele. What can I do for you? Another side of beef?"

"Thanks Hargman, but we have enough for now. I was wondering if you had seen Ian lately."

"Well, I'm not sure. I thought I heard someone in the back of the building a little while ago but when I got back there, I didn't see anyone. However, I thought I saw movement beyond the creek, heading up to the hills. My first thought it was Cragor the hermit, snooping around for scraps but I just saw him heading toward the stables."

"You think it was Ian?" asked Jaele.

"Well, I don't know. All I know is someone was going that way and if you don't find Ian anywhere else, then that's as good as place to start as any."

"Yes, thank you. Come on Tera; let's go over to the blacksmith."

"My friend Roake?"

"Yes, to Roake's house. You can see if Roake can play while I talk to Rynan."

"If I see Ian, I'll tell him you're looking for him," called Hargman.

"Thanks."

The pounding of Rynan's hammer was rhythmic and very loud. Tera had her hands over her ears. Rynan was a short thick man with forearms knotted with muscle. His black beard was burned at the edges from the heat of his forge. He neglected to trim it as his wife regularly requested, letting the singeing keep it in line.

"Rynan! Rynan!"

He put down his hammer and scowled. Then he saw who it was that hailed him and he grinned. His white teeth gleamed through the dirt on his face.

"Jaele and Tera! You brighten my day. Tera, Roake is behind the shed doing who knows what. Well Jaele, what can I do for you?" He wiped sweat from his brow.

"I am looking for Ian. He's usually working the kegs this time of day. He unloaded Ferran's wagon and hasn't been seen since."

"That's odd for sure. I usually mark the time of day by what Ian is doing. I tend to get lost in my work. I saw Ferran's wagon go up the road but I didn't notice anyone else-no one walking or riding. Now, that doesn't mean there wasn't anyone, I was focused on this gate I'm making."

"Have you heard anyone needing help with anything that Ian may have gone to assist? Something to be fixed? Injured horse? Anything?"

Rynan shook his head. "Not since the stable door came off its hinge."

"Well, thanks. If you don't mind, can Tera stay here for a while?"

"Oh, of course. She helps tone down Roake's antics and keeps the trouble to a minimum. If I see Ian, I'll send Roake over to you."

"Thanks Rynan. I better get back to the inn. Davan will need my help."

Jaele walked slowly back to the inn and walked in the front door. Davan looked up and Jaele shook her head. The room was fairly crowded and Davan had it under control with the help of Varga, the older servant girl. Jaele knew Varga had her eyes on Davan and made sure Varga couldn't corner him somewhere. Tera had standing orders to follow Varga and interrupt any private moment Varga may have planned. Davan was a bit flattered and Varga was appealing but Davan knew his parent's view of Varga's intentions.

"I didn't find him," said Jaele. "Well, we have a lot of work to do. He'll turn up."

Ian did not show up by nightfall and Jaele put Tera to bed. Davan could hear his mother pacing in her room with the crying Aravan. The main room was nearly empty. Brevin sat in a corner sopping up the last of his stew with a bread crust. Davan finished cleaning the bar; Varga had gone home for the night. Davan bolted the door and shuttered the windows.

"Looks like a cool breeze coming up from the bay," said Davan.

"Yes, I felt some of the chill last night. My wagon is not the best place to keep warm during the night, but I didn't think I'd make it here before midnight."

"Too courteous to wake us up?" asked Davan.

"Your tone tells me you don't believe that."

"Probably too tired to continue I'd guess."

"Watch your tongue, youngster. Be polite to your betters." Brevin grinned and checked his bowl for any bits of stew remaining. He set it down with a sigh.

"Is that keg still tapped?"

"Nope. Everything's shut down. Time for bed, old man."

"Just wait until I tell your mother how your treat the guests." He pushed away from the table and lumbered toward the stairs. "Davan, don't worry; Ian will be back by morning. You'll see."

"Goodnight, Brevin."

"Davan! Open up!"

The pounding on the front door jolted Davan from his pallet behind the bar. Several people were at the door. He recognized the voice of Hargman, the butcher. He unbolted the door and opened it. Hargman and two other men were carrying his father. They hurried in and laid him on the bar. Jaele had come downstairs and lighted the lamps.

"Is he alive?" asked Jaele.

"Yes," said Torrey, the stable boy. "Cragor found him up in the woods and came to the stables and roused me."

Jaele put a coat under Ian's head. "Why you?" she asked gently.

"I'm his friend," Torrey said to the strange expressions of the others. "Cragor had no one else to tell."

"Torrey's my friend," agreed Cragor, who smelled worse than usual.

"He doesn't seem to be injured," said Hargman. "Except for cuts and scrapes probably from brambles."

"Davan, be a dear and give these men ale. Even young Torrey. I can't thank you enough for bringing him back."

"Mumbling," said Cragor.

"What did you say dear?" asked Jaele. Cragor flushed at Jaele calling him 'dear'.

"Mister Ian was mumbling when I found him. Something about vera-lyre or some such. Had to reach vera-lyre."

"What else did he say?"

"Nothing I could make out. He passed out and I ran for Torrey."

"Yes, Torrey knocked on my door and we went and brought Ian here," said Hargman. "Ian said nothing while I was with him."

Jaele washed her husband's face. "He seems to be resting easy now."

"Do you want us to carry him upstairs?" asked Hargman.

"No, that's okay. I'll setup a spot for him here. He's restful now and I don't want to disturb him for a while. We don't open for a couple hours. Take your time with your ale."

Jaele sat in silence watching the sleeping form of her husband. The men had left and Davan fell back to sleep on his pallet. Ian murmured from time to time but nothing she could interpret.

When the sun rose, Ian's eyes opened and he sat up.

"Ian? Are you okay?" asked Jaele.

"Yes, I think so. How did I get on the bar?"

"You wandered off and no one could find you until last night. What happened?"

"I. I don't remember. I was unloading Ferran's wagon and I felt ill. I don't remember what happened after that." He hopped down and kissed Jaele.

"Did I worry you? I'm sorry."

"You don't remember anything?"

"Not a thing, but I feel great now. Whatever it was it passed." He grinned at Jaele.

"Ian, you were gone since yesterday afternoon and Cragor found you after midnight in the woods."

"That's strange."

"Ian, why would you want to contact Kerreth Veralier?"

"What do you mean?"

"Cragor said when he found you; you were talking about finding Veralier. Do you remember why?"

Ian shook his head. "I haven't thought about Kerreth for months."

"Please Ian, try to remember. It must have been important."

"Maybe I had a fever and it brought up old memories."

"Maybe."

"I'd better start preparing to open." He unshuttered the windows, unbolted the door and opened it. A cool wind filled the room. Ian took a deep breath and walked over to Davan's pallet and nudged the boy awake.

"Dad?"

"Hi Davan. I feel great. Let's get to work."

Davan peppered his father with questions and Ian answered him honestly. Jaele watched them for a time, not seeing anything to trouble her. She turned and saw Brevin standing on the lower step of the stairs. They shared a glance and Brevin went to a table.

"'Morning Ian, Davan."

"Brevin! I thought I smelled you," said Ian.

"Good to see you too," said Brevin.

"I'm just going to stoke up the cooking fire," said Ian. "Give him some ale, Davan. The man will fall out of his chair without ale." He went into the kitchen. Davan drew an ale and brought it over to the trader.

"Your dad's in a fine mood this morning."

"He acts like he had a long nap. Doesn't remember anything after mid-day yesterday."

"Curious."

The day passed without any unusual events and that night passed peacefully.

The next morning Jaele came down the stairs and saw Davan wiping down the tables. She looked around the empty room.

"Davan, where's your father?" asked Jaele.

"He went out early, said he had something to take care of before we opened. But I haven't seen him since."

Brevin walked in the front door. "Well, I think I have everything ready to go. I'll probably be back by mid-summer."

"Jaele!" shouted Hargman. He stepped inside past Brevin. "Cragor's been murdered."

"Cragor? He doesn't have anything to steal. Who'd want to hurt him?"

"Torrey said he saw Ian walking out to Cragor's lookout. Cragor had just walked that way a few minutes earlier."

"Ian? Torrey doesn't know what he's saying," said Jaele.

"He said Ian was hunched over and moving quick almost on all fours, like an animal. A few of us are going out to search the area. We wanted to know if you or Davan want to join us."

"I will," said Davan.

"No," said Jaele. "We have work to do."

"But, they're accusing Dad."

"We aren't accusing anyone," said Hargman. "I just said he was seen heading that way and he didn't remember what happened the other day."

"No offense taken," said Jaele. "But we can't leave right now."

"We'll let you know what we find," said Hargman. He left and Jaele shut the door.

"Davan come here. I have things to tell you. No, you stay Brevin. I need your wisdom." They sat together at a corner table.

"Before you were born, your father and I went on an adventure of sorts and were mixed up in the Celaeri War in Cresida."

"You were there?."

"Cresida is your father's ancestral home. Your father has a bit of Celaeri blood in him and so do you. He wanted to go back to Greyrawk Mountain to see the ruins of the old castle. Well, there was more there than just the castle. The Celaeri were trying to regain their former power and your father was caught up in it. There were a lot of magic and strange creatures which I will not recall if I have a choice."

"How is this connected to Dad's behavior?"

"I am not sure, but I have suspicions. One thing I do know is what Cragor said your father said is a name."

"Vera-lyre?"

"You have heard of the Talos Company."

"Yes, half my childhood stories were of them. A company of warriors from immortal or long-lived races. Zidar, Daerlan, Tuor, Anethean, sorcerers. Stories of heroes. I've outgrown them."

"Well, they are not just a story Davan, they are real. Remember those people who helped build the new part of the inn?"

"Uncle Loric's friends? You're not telling me the truth."

"Yes, she is," said Brevin. "I have met them. I know some of them very well."

"Your father was saying he needed to contact Kerreth Veralier, the leader of the Talos Company. The Talos Company fought with us against the Celaeri."

"You fought with the Talos Company? Did I fall and hit my head? Perhaps it is me that is feverish, not Father. Cragor said Father mentioned Veralier. Why?"

"I do not know, but something was troubling him and he wouldn't mention it to me."

"You think he's gone after this Veralier?"

"No. I think it's too late. Whatever he was worried about must have happened. I don't know where he would go. We need to find Kerreth and ask for his help."

"I do not understand you."

"One of the creatures we fought in the Celaeri War was called Vlakan, a creature that some of the Celaeri changed into. It was like a disease, an uncontrollable thing. Some could change back to their original form but some remained Vlakan. I believe your father may have this disease. His father had it."

Davan looked from Jaele to Brevin, unable to speak.

"If I may," said Brevin. "Ian may be under the throes of a transformation and he may have killed Cragor without knowing it. Jaele is suggesting we do what Ian suggested: contact Kerreth Veralier. Only the Talos Company could find Ian in the wide world. No one else."