Ties of Blood (6 page)

After squeezing the kegs into the magical travel pack the three started following the southern road. It was hard to call what they followed a road. In Farlan the roads were well maintained and paved with cobble stone in many places. What passed for a road in Abla was nothing more than a dirt path that looked as it had been worn down by heavy travel. While not bad for horses it had to be hard on the wagons that passed through.

The initial excitement of being deep in enemy territory faded as the days passed. Abla was a mountainous land with only sparse patches of green. After a while one mountain looked no different than the other no matter the size. At night they ate the same meal of dried meat and fruit. It was bland but filling but what she wouldn’t give for some fresh meat. They had looked for some wild game, but the only meat they could find had been owned by the few farmers that dotted the countryside.

Four days after they had set out from Boral they came across a band of travelers. It was a rather large group filled with mounted guards and wagons loaded down so heavily Eloen could hear their axle’s creak and pop as they rolled along. From what she could see most of the wagons were loaded down with raw metal ore, and grain. The group was moving slow but headed in the same direction as they were. Midday was already well past and night was fast approaching so they decided it would be best to spend the night in the company of the caravan.

The Caravan master didn’t seem to mind letting them ride along for a bit as long as they didn’t cause any trouble. He even took a few moments to see if they wanted to buy any of their wares. Ballard bought two bags of oats for the horses at a horribly high price as far as Eloen was concerned, but it helped soften the caravan masters mood, and while they weren’t running low at the moment there was no telling when the bags would come in handy in the rocky terrain of Abla.

Eloen didn’t like the slowed pace even if it was for a short time. If it wasn’t for their lack of information on the area she would have demanded they continue on. As it was she wasn’t even sure they were still headed in the right direction. It was frustrating to know that every minute they wasted the chances of catching up to Thad drifted father away.

As night settled in the caravan stopped pulling their wagons into a large circle. Eloen had seen the formation before and knew that it was done to offer the best protection in the case of an attack. It was a good idea but she thought that they were allowing too much space between the wagons, leaving more than enough room for three riders side by side to ride through. The lapse in security nagged at her but she held her tongue not wanting to cause a problem with the caravaners.

The three companions set away from the caravan’s main fire making one of their own, so they could talk in privacy. Their plan didn’t work out well as soon people started to migrate to their fire shortly after it was built. Most of them were younger and were more interested in talking to Eloen than anything but thanks to Ballard playing the overprotective brother she was spared from anyone making bold advances thought there were more than a few subtle ones thrown her way.

Ballard fished for any information he could without being obvious about his lack of knowledge of the area. They learned that the caravan was headed to a rather large trading town. It was located between many of the larger mines in the country so it was an ideal place from many of the blacksmiths so it was aptly named Smithtown. The caravan expected to reach the town in a few days but Eloen knew that without even riding hard they should be able to get their within a day.

Ballard and Darryl agreed to share the watch with the caravan guards but at least they had made sure to be scheduled at different times so she wouldn’t be left alone. It wasn’t that she was afraid for herself but killing one of the caravaners because they were a little too insistent didn’t seem like something that would go over well with the caravan master.

As the moon began to climb into the sky everyone began finding the security of their beds. Darryl had the first watch so he met up with the caravan head guard leaving Eloen and Ballard alone.

“What do you think about Smithtown?” Eloen whispered softly trying to keep her voice from carrying in the too far in the silence of the night.

“If it’s as large as they say we should be able to find out information if they passed this way.”

“How are we supposed to go about asking questions without drawing attention to ourselves?”

Ballard gave her a sly wink. “How else, we visit the taverns. A couple of drinks and a few carefully placed statements can get people to talk about anything you want to. Why do you think I spend so much time in the taverns?”

“I thought it was so that could see if you could drink yourself blind.” Eloen said smirking.

“That too, but it is a great place to gather information. You wouldn’t believe how much men love to talk once they get a few drinks in them. Most of it is nothing more than bragging, but say the right thing and they will tell you everything you want to know. It just takes a little skill.”

“I shall leave that to you then, oh master of the tavern.” Eloen said giving a mocking half bow.

“Good, just don’t complain too much when I don’t look my best the following morning.”

“I would never do that, but I won’t stop Darryl yelling in your ear either.” Eloen said laughing.

“I knew that son of a goat wasn’t talking normally.” Ballard said furrowing his brow. “I just thought my hangover was worse than normal. Remind me throw him over the next bridge we cross.”

Knowing that it would be an early wakeup Eloen and Ballard turned in for the night. Laying in her bedroll Eloen thought about Thad. He had been the center of her dreams since she he had been captured by the Ablaians. It wasn’t all bad though sometimes she dreamed they were back in Southpass hidden and talking about the possibly of getting married.

Thinking back to the time she had spent with Thad, she smiled to herself. She hoped that they could find some hint of his whereabouts in Smithtown, but didn’t want to let her hopes get up. There were still too many unknowns to even think they would be able to rescue him, but she knew she had to try. She decided instead to focus on what she knew she could find in a large town, and a hot bath and soft bed would do wonders for her mood.

CHAPTER VI

Smithtown was much larger than Eloen had expected. Though it was only early spring the air in the town was warm. The sound of hammers filled the air from the many blacksmiths and foundries. The smell of burning wood and coal hung over the town along with a thin cloud of smoke that eerily hung in their air, almost shimmering as it caught the last vestiges of light from the setting sun.

Eloen wanted to stay in one of the finer inns of the town but Ballard had insisted that they pick one of moderate means. He assured her it wasn’t in an attempt to save coin or to dampen her spirit but because it would allow for the most diverse group of patrons increasing their chance of gaining information. She wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or getting back at her for teasing him earlier about his drinking, but decided that as long as they inn had a bath she wouldn’t argue.

It didn’t take long for Ballard to find an inn he liked. It was one of the larger inns and had a metal sign hanging out front of a large pitcher tipped over on its side. As they walked in the common room the scent of burning tobacco assaulted her nose. As they approached the desk they were greeted by a heavy set woman, with grey eyes and long brown hair.

“What can I do for you boys today?”

“We need two rooms, and the lady will need a bath brought up to hers.”

“We can do that for you. The rooms are three silver a piece and five coppers for the bath. While you wait for your bath why don’t you all get a bite to eat, the cook fixed up some barbequed lamb that’s as tender as a babe’s hind end.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me.” Ballard said as he handed the woman the coins.

The common room was far larger than anything Eloen had ever seen before. A large bench wrapped around the entire length of the wall with tables intermittently placed in front of it except where a small stage had been sat up. Other tables of varying size dotted the room but the center of the floor remained open. Eloen wondered at the wasted space but didn’t let it bother her as she followed Ballard to one of the smaller tables located near the corner of the room.

Shortly after they sat a young woman near to her own age promptly appeared at her table. She was a nice looking girl with a lithe body and shoulder length blond hair and bright blue eyes that remained fixed on Darryl as she approached the table. “What can I get you sirs?” She said her voice light and mousey.

“Three plates of lamb, a couple of ales and a small glass of wine for the young lady.” Ballard replied not even looking up at the woman.

“Anything else?” the young woman asked leaning down so that her chest brushed Darryl’s shoulder.

“That’s all we need for now.” Darryl said trying his best to stare as the waitress pouted her lips and turned, her hips swaying seductively as she walked back toward the kitchen.

“Looks like you have an admirer, lover boy.” Eloen said smirking.

“I know with these devilishly good looks of mine it a wonder I haven’t been tied down to the altar yet.” Darryl said flashing a smile.”

“That’s not a mystery the second you open that mouth of yours they all run as fast as their legs can carry them.” Ballard said slapping his friend hard on the back.

When their food was brought out waitress continued her hunt of Darryl, taking every opportunity to let her skin brush up against his. Eloen was amazed that her friend didn’t take any of the young girl’s advances. She had not spent a great deal of time with Darryl outside of the army. He was proving to be much shyer than she would have imagined given his bawdry demeanor with the rest of the unit.

“When are you going to start fishing for information?” Eloen asked giving Ballard a questioning look as he finished off his mug of ale.

“It’s too early yet. Have to wait until everyone is deep into their cups.” Ballard replied turning his mug upside down on the table.

The lamb like the other Ablaian food was spicier than she was used to, making her stomach protest after each bite. When only half her food was eaten she ran her hands over her burning belly. “While you two enjoy yourselves I’m going to go enjoy my bath and hope this food doesn’t come back to haunt me.” Eloen said in a slightly pained voice.

“Fun, the fun won’t start until later.” Ballard said showing her away with his hand. “Now go enjoy your bath. Just try not to stay in there so long you look like a dried piece of fruit.”

Eloen sniffed the air then crinkled her nose. “You could use a bath yourself. I’ve smelt outhouses that had a better aroma then you two are putting off.”

Darryl lifted his arm and took a large whiff then began coughing. “I didn’t pass out, so we still got a few days.”

“Men!” Eloen said as she turned and walked away. She had gotten used to their bathing habits or the lack of, but sometimes she swore they had an ongoing bet about who could be the first to cause death by stink alone.

She found her room with the bath already drawn and still steaming. Sticking her finger in the water and found that it was almost hot enough to boil someone alive in. Not wanting to wait for it to cool she shimmied out of her clothes and slipped slowly into the bath. Looking around she noticed a small bar of soap. Looking around she didn’t see anything to use as a rag and that was one of the few things she hadn’t thought about bringing with her on the trip. Sighing in disappointment she began washing, trying to get as clean as she could with what she had available.

Once the dirt was scrubbed from her body, Eloen lay back and relaxed, letting the hot water soothe her aching muscles. It wasn’t just Thad that had been bothering her as of late. The current state of Abla’s people was in sad shape. Unlike in Farlan where even the poor could afford good clothing, but even the well to do people in Abla seemed to wear clothing that would hardly pass for the peasantry. She seldom wore nice dresses unless she was at home but she had grown accustomed to seeing the elegant dress of the women of Farlan.

Slipping below the water she tried to wash away the questions that were lying heavily on her shoulders. Was it due to Farlan’s heavy taxes that the majority of Ablaians were forced to live in abject poverty? She didn’t know enough to answer the question. Their government could be to siphoning off funds to the top tier and leaving the lower rungs the scraps. She had always been content with thinking that the Ablaians were simply a warmonger race of degenerates on the other side of the mountain. She had never even met one of them until recently. Now she could no longer tell herself that. They were no different than her expect they were unfortunate enough to be born on the wrong side of an imaginary line.