A Chance Meeting

‘Alarston is the second of the twin cities, built by Emperor Alar back in the first age. The tale goes it was a gift to his son. An entire City for your birthday, can you imagine that?’ Said Chadwick with a shake of his head. ‘Some call it grand, I’d say it was madness!’

‘Aye.’ Replied Luthar, not really listening to the history lesson. Since the fracas at the mill, Chadwick had been a lot more talkative, and kept giving these little talks about this and that. But today, Luthar couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. There was a dark cloud hanging over him, like some important task left undone, but what it was, he couldn’t fathom.

The night before the two of them, along with Ezekiel, Flint and Garrett, had stayed in a very well to do inn on the western edge of the city, with comforts such as feather beds and a cooked breakfast. Even a night of luxury couldn’t dispel his uneasy feeling, or prevent him waking in the night, fearful of unforeseen dangers. Ever since they’d started out that morning Luthar fought his own mind to free himself of his torment, yet it clung to him like persistent sickness, spreading to every recess of his soul.

It was late morning when they’d left the high walls of Alarston behind and begun their ride along the road West to the first twin city, Alargoth, the birthplace of the long-dead Alaran Empire. To the left of the road lay Alarston Orchards, famous for their cider apples. To the right, just forest as far as the eye could see. Dark green leaves blocked sunlight from falling through the trees, casting pitch black shadows amongst the trunks, easy places for the mountain folk to hide if they should dare to venture this far south. Shuddering at the thought, Luthar diverted his gaze back to the road and thought of what he wanted to do after his promotion.

Chadwick continued to educate Flint and Garrett on the history of the twin cities, however Ezekiel slowed down to ride next to Luthar.

‘All ok Luthar?’ he asked.

‘Do you ever get the feeling something’s not right? I can’t place it, but it’s been eating away at me since we reached Alarston.’

Ezekiel turned and looked at him, studying his emotions, grey eyes beating on him, like a hammer forging steel. ‘Don’t let your gut rule your mind. You need to be here in the moment, focused on the task in hand, not elsewhere pondering on things that might not come to pass.’

Ezekiel wasn’t scolding him, but his words came firm, leaving Luthar in no doubt that he should concentrate on what was in front of him, not on something yet unseen or unheard.

The party set a quick pace for two days and nights until they reached the river crossing at Highgate, a border town between Calladia and Teraditha. They’d travelled in Calladia for nigh on three years, taking work and earning coin where they could, now heading back into Teraditha and riding for the guild felt like returning home.

Highgate was a small but prosperous town, ruled by Lord and Lady Hammerton, chiefly earning its gold from taxes levied at the border crossing and wood gathered from the northern forest. Travellers passing were a common sight in the bustling settlement, so no one paid any mind to the five warriors on their horses. Chadwick had a particular soft spot for the place after his victory in the lists here, some five years past.

As they walked down the main road to the square, Luthar cast his eyes over the wooden buildings, three stories tall often as not. Candles were lit inside to defend from the oncoming gloom. One building towered above them all, made of stone with a freshly thatched roof, bursts of raucous laughter could be heard each time the door opened.

‘Here we are lads, The Slumbering Giant Inn. Finest food on the border!’ said Chadwick with a smile.

Luthar and Garrett took the horses around the back to the stable before sitting down with Chadwick, Ezekiel and Flint in the bustling common room. The air was thick with pipe smoke and lanterns on the walls gave out a dim glow, aided by a candle on each wooden table. The smell of cooked meats and stews drifted out of the kitchen making Luthar’s stomach growl. Farmers, travellers, and townsfolk all sat together, eating, drinking, and discussing the day’s events. Some played at cards or dice, betting for their companion’s coppers.

Ezekiel, as the most senior member of the guild, carried the coin. He spoke to the barkeep briefly and passed over a fistful of silver shillings for a night’s bed and board for each of them, then returned to their table with five mugs of Teraditha’s finest ale. They all took a mouthful, grateful to quench their thirst.

‘What’s next for young Luthar?’ asked Chadwick, ale dripping from his untidy beard onto the table.

Luthar took another mouthful of his drink, pondering for a second. ‘I think I’m going to train at the guild for a while, strengthen my arm a bit before taking any work of my own.’

‘Can’t fault you there lad. There’ll be some tougher nuts out there to crack than them thugs back at the mill. Have you thought about the blade classes?’

‘The blade classes?’

‘Ranks given to guild members who show a real skill at arms. Flint here is a Bladehandler, same as me. Then you’ve got Bladefighter, like Ezekiel, then Bladewarrior which isn’t easy to get to, mark my words! Finally, there’s Blademaster, like our illustrious leader, Leyton. Reckon he’s the only one right now. You’ve got what it takes to make it big I reckon. What do you say Ezekiel?’

‘Agreed. My advice, take or leave it, is to get yourself back to the guild and get as much training in as you can whilst you’re still young. There’s always work around Alargoth so you’ll not need to travel far to pay your keep. Just remember to respect the art though, it’s easy to get a new rank and think you’re the big man. Before you know it, someone’s separated your head from your neck, leaving you to look a fool!’

‘I’ll do that. What about you Garrett?’ asked Luthar, eager to change the focus of Ezekiel’s hard stare.

‘He’s got a lot to learn still. We’ll be off to the frontier towers next. See if he likes them more than you did Chadwick.’ Said Ezekiel with a smile at Chadwick.

Just then their food arrived, beef stew, potatoes and peas covered with a gravy so thick Luthar thought he could stand a spoon up in it. They all tucked in hungrily after the days ride. Luthar felt like it was the best meal he’d ever eaten.

After they’d finished the conversation continued, but Luthar drifted again, his feeling of unease returning, greater this time. Something wasn’t right somewhere but he couldn’t guess what to do about it. The laughter of the room assaulted his ears, pipe smoke choked him until he couldn’t catch his breath. Cold sweat was beading on his brow and running down his face. He loosened his shirt and took a gulp of his ale to try and clear his throat to breathe. Suddenly he was falling, down and down into a never-ending black abyss.

He awoke in a bed with Chadwick’s black bearded face staring down at him, concern in his eyes.

‘What happened?’ Was all Luthar could manage to say.

‘Seems someone put a little extra in your dinner.’ With this Chadwick stood aside to reveal the scene in the Inn’s bedroom.

In the corner of the room, sat in a chair was the barkeep, wrists and ankles bound to a chair. Eyes swollen and shut, mouth and nose bleeding profusely down on to his white shirt. In front of him stood Ezekiel, sleeves rolled up, blood dripping from his hands. He was sweating and breathing heavily, eyes afire with an anger that chilled Luthar’s bones. Flint and Garrett were absent.

‘This weasel was just explaining to us what he put in your beef stew earlier. Still haven’t got to the why yet.’ Said Ezekiel before landing a vicious backhand across the man’s face, sending blood splattering across the wall. He grunted in pain, spitting yet more blood at Ezekiel’s feet.

Suddenly three quick knocks on the door stayed Ezekiel’s clenched fist. Chadwick opened it a crack, before stepping back and letting Flint enter. He was dragging a young lad of no more than fourteen by the scruff of his neck.

‘Tell these good gentlemen what you told me if you want to keep your teeth in your mouth.’ Said Flint, meaning every word.

‘Some bloke gave me 10 gold crowns to put it in the dinner meant for him.’ He answered, indicating Luthar with a quivering hand.

‘Which bloke?’ Pressed Flint, giving the youth a shake.

‘A northerner, dark hair, bright blue eyes. Never seen him before, I swear!’

‘Know his name?’

‘He didn’t tell me, but I overheard someone call him Maxim or something. Please sir, that’s all I know!’

Flint pulled him closer, nearly nose to nose, gritting his teeth. ‘Why does he want him dead?’

‘He never said!’ The boy was crying now, clearly no more sense would come from him.

Flint opened the door and threw him out unceremoniously, firmly applying his booted foot to the lad’s backside. He slammed the door and turned back to Ezekiel.

‘Well, that sorts that out.’ Said Ezekiel to the room. He turned to the barkeep, still sat bleeding away in his corner. ‘Thanks for your assistance.’ He punched the man clean in the jaw, and his head fell forward onto his chest, he remained still.

‘Let’s get out of here sharpish, I don’t like this.’ Said Chadwick, moving to help Luthar to his feet.

‘Agreed. I know of Maxim, got business of my own with him. No doubt we’ll square up later.’ Said Ezekiel between deep breaths.

They made their way downstairs and out to the back yard of the inn, Luthar leaning heavily on Chadwick. Night was breaking and the sky was turning a deep bruised purple, stars just beginning to be snuffed out. Garrett was stood with the horses saddled, ready to go. Behind him a raven-haired young woman dressed all in green was stroking Stepper.

‘How are you feeling Luthar?’ She asked, concern in her eyes.

‘Shaky, but think I’ll live my lady.’

‘You’ll feel much better tomorrow I assure you. Whoever did this to you didn’t know their measures, the amount they gave you was nowhere near enough to kill you. But nonetheless it was fortunate I was nearby to get a strong antidote down you. You could have been bedridden for days otherwise.’

‘Thank you, my lady, may I know your name?’

‘I am Akindra, a friend of Lady Luella whom I believe you already know?’

Luthar had met Lady Luella as a boy, in fact it was her who enabled him to join the warrior’s guild. She’d paid for his journey and his joining fee, a debt he felt he could never repay.

‘I do, my lady. She helped me get to where I am today. A friend of hers is a friend of mine. If there is anything I can do to repay you, please name it.’

‘It was a pleasure to help you. For now, I only desire your company as I ride to the guild to visit Lady Luella. I look forward to hearing about your work on the journey, I hear you’re quite the swordsman.’

‘Forgive me my lady, we must make haste. I fear this place isn’t safe for us at present.’ Interjected Ezekiel.

‘Of course, lead the way.’ Replied Akindra, and with one graceful movement she was on her own horse, ready to travel.

Chadwick and Garrett helped Luthar climb on to Stepper, his limbs still felt very weak, and his balance hadn’t righted itself. He held the reins tight, doing his best to stay mounted.

‘Don’t worry too much lad, like the lady says, you’ll live.’ Said Chadwick.

They set off into the Teradithan morning, eager to get back to the guild before any more dangers reared their head. The light grew stronger as they rode west past Timberwood, over the river, and towards home.

‘Maybe you should listen to your gut a bit more Luthar!’ Said Ezekiel laughing. ‘Let us know if you get any more of your funny feelings.’

‘Think we’ve got a truth seer in our ranks!’ Replied Chadwick, apparently seeing the funny side now Luthar was recovering.