Quest's End: The Broken Key #3 (15 page)

Riyan was surprised it was so cheap. “We’ll take seven rooms and an equal number of stalls,” he said. Digging out the coins he handed them over to her.

“Very well,” she said as the coins disappeared into a pocket. “Dinner will be served shortly after sundown,” she explained.

“That will be fine,” replied Riyan. “Thank you.”

The old lady again nodded before turning about. Her shoulders almost seemed to sag as she crossed the room toward the door through which the younger girl had passed.

Riyan and Bart headed back outside. “Feel sorry for her,” commented Riyan.

“The old lady or the younger?” Bart asked.

“The older of course,” clarified Riyan. “She seemed so tired and sad.”

“Wait until you have kids,” Bart said and gave him a wink.

“I suppose,” replied Riyan. But if that’s the way of it, he hoped that day would be long in coming.

Outside, they rejoined the others and took their horses around back to the stable. While they were getting their horses settled in, quiet sobbing could be heard coming from the back.

Riyan glanced at Bart who shook his head fervently and silently mouthed, ‘no’. But despite Bart’s input, Riyan set his saddle on the shelf in the back of the stall then went to see about the girl. The others had heard her sobbing as well, but he was the only one who felt the need to see about it.

He went to the doorway leading into the room at the back of the stable and paused a moment as another round of sobbing commenced. Glancing through the doorway, he saw the girl lying face down on the cot with her forehead lying on her crossed arms. Her back was vibrating from the force of the sobs coming from her.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

At the sound of his voice, she immediately sat up and turned red rimmed eyes toward him. “What?” she asked.

“Are you alright?” he repeated in a caring manner.

“Yes,” she replied. But the tears that continued welling in her eyes belied that statement.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked.

She shook her head. Getting up from the cot, she hurried over to the rear door and was gone.

Riyan turned about and found Bart was standing directly behind him.

“Leave it alone,” Bart told him. “It’s none of our concern.”

“Perhaps,” Riyan agreed.

“Come on,” Bart said as he laid a hand on Riyan’s shoulder, “we still have time to get settled in before dinner.”

Riyan nodded. The tears of the girl had struck a chord. For some reason, she reminded him in many ways of Freya. Realizing Bart was right, he went with him and the others back to the inn where they relaxed in their rooms until dinnertime.

Dinner as it turned out was a basic stew of meat and assorted vegetables that had seen better days. Very few people beside themselves were in attendance for the evening meal. The elderly lady whom they had initially spoken with was minding the bar and still looked as fatigued as she had earlier. The girl who had been sobbing in the stable moved among the tables and saw to the needs of the guests. She supplied them with ale, and when it was ready, their dinner. Both of them looked distracted and unhappy. Riyan’s heart went out to them, but after a talking to from Bart just before they came down, kept his nose out of their problems.

Not long after their dinner had been brought to their table, a couple entered the inn and sat at a table near the front. When the elderly lady came from the back and saw them, her eyes perked up. Moving across to their table, she greeted them and sat down.

Just then, the girl who had to be either the old lady’s daughter or granddaughter, as the family resemblance was unmistakable, emerged from the kitchen with another pitcher of ale.

Conversation immediately ceased at the table where the elderly lady and the couple were speaking. She immediately noticed who was sitting at the table. It seemed as if she stiffened ever so slightly.

Three pairs of silent eyes watched her as she crossed the room to where Riyan and the others sat. Without a word, the girl placed the pitcher on their table and quickly returned to the kitchen. No sooner had she disappeared through the door than the elderly lady and the couple resumed speaking.

“Wonder what’s going on?” Riyan asked. His eyes were on the door through which the girl had passed.

“None of our business,” Bart said.

Riyan moved his eyes to Bart and saw the seriousness of his expression. “Don’t worry,” he assured his friend, “I don’t plan on doing anything.” Bart held his stare until Riyan finally looked away.

He was very curious about what was going on, though. Over at the other table, the three of them were whispering with heads held closely together, just soft enough so Riyan couldn’t make out what they were saying. From the looks each would cast to the door leading into the kitchen, it wasn’t hard to figure out about whom they were talking.

“I think she has a boyfriend they don’t approve of,” Chyfe said.

Seth nodded. “So it would seem.”

Soth looked to his brother and grinned. “Remember that time you were seeing Gleara?”

Seth’s face turned into a frown and he failed to answer.

“What happened?” asked Chyfe.

“She was the daughter of a merchant,” Soth began.

“Do you have to tell this?” Seth asked.

“No,” his brother replied. Then he grinned, “But I’m going to anyway.” Seth sighed and didn’t look very happy.

“Anyway, Gleara was a beautiful girl whom my poor brother was smitten with,” he began. “Every chance he had, he would visit her and usually brought along a gift of some sort. One day when he was on his way to visit her…” He trailed off when he saw someone rushing in through the front door. The others, who had been intent on his tale didn’t take notice of the new arrival until Soth had stopped talking.

“Kiera!” the man hollered as he rushed over to the table where the elderly lady sat talking with the couple. Every eye in the room turned to watch his hurried stride to their table.

Coming to her feet, the elderly lady asked, “Jake, what’s wrong?”

“Raiders have been sighted,” he exclaimed.

“Where?” demanded the man with whom Kiera had been speaking.

“An hour to the east,” came the reply. “Cain was checking on his herd when he saw them crossing his lands. They were heading this way.”

One of the men sitting at another table leaped to his feet. “How many were there?” he asked.

“Cain said there were at least a score,” Jake replied. “Maybe more.”

Riyan and Bart exchanged worried glances. The last thing they needed was to be caught in a Raider attack.

Others began entering the inn, men bearing swords and bows. One of them, a grizzled old soldier said, “No sign of them in the immediate vicinity.”

The door to the kitchen cracked open and Riyan saw their serving girl peer out.

The old soldier signaled to a younger man bearing a bow. “Take the others with bows and get on the rooftops,” he said. “Holler if you see anything.”

“Yes sir,” the bowman said. He and the other two men with bows soon passed back out into the night.

As the bowmen were leaving, the old soldier glanced over to where Riyan and the others were seated. Moving their way, he said, “You fellows look like you’d be handy in a fight.”

Bart glanced to Riyan who nodded. Standing up, he faced the old soldier. “We can hold our own,” he replied.

“Good,” he said. “May come in handy should the Raiders attack.”

“Do you really think they will?” asked Soth.

“You never know son,” he replied.

More people were coming into the inn. It looked like everyone in the immediate vicinity was congregating there. Some were entire families carrying sacks and packs full of belongings.

“Did you send someone for help?” asked Chyfe. “We met a band of soldiers on the way down earlier this afternoon.”

The old soldier snorted. “Wouldn’t do any good even if we could find them in the dark,” he said.

A man dressed in leather armor entered the inn. After spying the old soldier by their table, he hurried to his side. “Men are on the roof and everyone’s inside,” he reported.

“Good,” the old soldier replied. “Bar the doors and station men at windows on the upper floor. I want to know the instant they appear.”

“Yes sir,” the man said. Moving to carry out his orders, he soon had half a dozen men in tow as he headed for the stairs.

The old soldier turned back to Bart. “They may not come this way,” he told him. “But it’s always wise to be cautious. Stay inside and keep your weapons nearby.”

“We’ll do that,” Bart assured him.

Nodding, the old soldier returned to the table where the elderly lady Kiera was speaking with half a dozen locals.

“Rather efficient isn’t he?” questioned Seth.

As Bart sat back down, he glanced to the locals seated around them. Most had a calmness he thought was a bit out of place considering a Raider attack may be imminent. “Everyone seems rather calm,” he stated.

“Maybe this happens quite often,” suggested Kevik.

“It does,” replied a farmer sitting the table next to his.

“More often than it should,” his wife added.

“Do they attack?” asked Riyan.

The farmer shook his head. “Not since we started gathering at the inn when they’re in the area. Once in a while a farm might lose some livestock and a house ransacked, but no one’s been killed in years.”

“Makes sense,” responded Chyfe. “Taking this inn wouldn’t be worth the risks.”

“That’s the idea,” the farmer said. “Better to lose some livestock or goods than your life.”

Bart turned to the farmer and said, “On the way in we saw headstones in your graveyard that looked rather new.”

“Oh,” the farmer replied. “That was from something else.”

At that time, the serving girl appeared from the kitchen carrying a tray bearing a dozen mugs in one hand and a pitcher of ale in the other. Moving from table to table, she passed out the mugs and filled each from the pitcher.

For the next hour, Riyan and the others remained in the common room, expecting to aid in holding off a Raider attack. During that time, the people who called Marl Crest home acted as if this was nothing more than a big social gathering. Riyan was surprised that there wasn’t even a minute trace of underlying fear. It was almost as if they were simply going through the motions without really expecting an attack to manifest.

So when a girl’s scream split the night, the townsfolk froze in shock. Riyan, Bart, and the rest of their group on the other hand were not so handicapped. Immediately springing to action, they leaped from their seats and raced for the door leading out back to the stable. For that had been the direction from which the scream had originated.

Bart was first to the door and was through in a flash. By this time, the townsfolk had recovered from their shock and were in motion too. Out back, Bart quickly took notice of light coming from within the stable. Shadows wielding swords could be seen moving about.

“Kevik!” hollered Bart as he raced for the stable. “Light!” A second later, light sprang from his staff and flooded the rear courtyard of the inn.

“In the stable!” one of the archers stationed on the inn’s rooftop hollered to them.

With a dart gripped in one hand, Bart raced for the stable door. Behind him he heard the old soldier shouting for others to move around the back of the stable to prevent anyone from escaping.

Again a scream ripped through the night, only this time it came from behind them, in the direction of the inn.

Crash!

A body smashed its way through the side of the stable. The dark skin and sword held in his hand declared for all to see that it was indeed one of the Raiders.

“Kill him!” a man cried.

“No!” hollered the old soldier. “We want him alive!”

The Raider stood there for a split second as he took in the situation. Seeing the only path to freedom lay to his left, he bolted in that direction.

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

Two arrows and one of Bart’s darts embedded themselves into the side of the stable a split second after the Raider bolted.

“Don’t kill him!” the grizzled old soldier yelled to the bowman atop the inn. “We need him alive!”

Then a few, short magical words sounded in the courtyard and the Raider was suddenly encased in goo. With his legs and most of his upper body immobile, the Raider was unable to keep his balance and hit the ground hard.

“Take his sword,” one of the locals hollered.

Bart was the first to reach him with Riyan a close second. In a matter of moments they had him disarmed.

“Damn Orack Raider!” one local cursed. Another spat at him.

Kevik kept the goo on the man until several of the bowmen had arrived. Once the bowman had arrows knocked and at the ready, Kevik canceled the goo spell. Immediately, three of the locals came forward and bound the man’s hands together.

“Take him to the stable’s storeroom,” the old soldier ordered. “And make sure he doesn’t get away.” As the Raider was being escorted to the storeroom, the soldier turned to another man. “Ride to Kendruck and let them know we’ve caught a Raider.”

“What are they going to do to him?” asked Chyfe.

“Question him of course,” the old soldier replied. Then to another he said, “Stay alert. His friends may not be far away.”

The man nodded and began collecting bystanders for guards.

“Can’t tell you how much we appreciate what you did,” the old soldier said to Kevik.

“Glad I could help,” Kevik replied.

The old soldier turned to the women and other onlookers standing near the inn. Raising his voice, he said, “Go back inside. It’s over.”

“At least for now,” another man stated.

Nodding, the old soldier moved off to make sure the sentries that had been posted were in the proper positions.

“Now what?” asked Seth.

“Looks like it’s over for now,” Riyan said.

Bart nodded. “Best if we return to the inn and stay out of their way,” he said. “If they need us, they’ll know where to find us.”

As they headed back to the inn, Soth asked, “Did any of you notice the color pattern the Raider was wearing?” When they shook their heads, he said, “It was the same as the two Tribesmen we saw coming from the Orack trading house in Kendruck.”