Progeny (The Children of the White Lions)

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Progeny (The Children of the White Lions) Page 66

by Kaelin, R. T.


  ‘Sergeant’ Blainwood was speaking with the guards now. Using the story Broedi gave the man last night, he was to explain that they were a company of Arms from Prince’s Port on their way to Fargrove, a city on the western coast of the Southlands. Kenders and the rest of the non-soldiers were travelers on their way to Fargrove as well, and were moving with the soldiers simply for safety’s sake.

  Assuming the guards accepted the story, the group would move into the city at which point the soldiers and Nundle would head to the marketplace while everyone else was to find a quiet tavern and wait—out of sight—until the soldiers had replenished their supplies. There had been a brief moment of consternation last night regarding how the company was to pay for their purchases when Nundle had jumped up and run to his saddlebags. He returned, stunning everyone as he brought with him a large sack of gold. The tomble offered to pay for everything.

  Thankfully, the city guards did not appear overly interested in the column and waved them past without much pause. As the horses in front of her moved, Broedi glanced at them all and said, “Smile, please.”

  Kenders forced a tiny grin on her face as they passed the guards, and managed to say, “Good days ahead.”

  One of the men smiled wide at her and said, “And good memories behind, miss.” The wink accompanying the greeting earned the man a hard look from her brothers.

  The guards examined Nundle and Broedi closer than the rest of them, but let the odd pair pass without a verbal challenge. Kenders thought that if this truly were part of a joint infiltration exercise between the two duchies, the Southlands would be failing miserably.

  Once past the guards, Kenders relaxed and studied the city ahead, still a half-mile down the road. The buildings here were much different from the tiny homes of Yellow Mud or the flat-topped structures in Smithshill. The houses and shops had sharp-angled roofs, some rising into peaks while others were but a single, graceful slope on one side. Every building here was at least two stories tall—with some reaching as many as five floors—and constructed almost entirely of wood. In most cases, the first floor of a building was a few feet smaller all around than the floors above it, giving the appearance that the houses were carefully balanced, poised to fall over. The wood and plaster walls were a mix of creamy whites or tans, crisscrossed with wide beams of black wood.

  The place was certainly foreign, but overall, Kenders liked it much better than Fallsbottom. The fact that she was not dripping wet had a lot to do with that.

  Curious what the Moiléne sisters thought of their first city, Kenders swiveled in her saddle and looked back. Helene’s grip on her sister’s forearms was tight and her eyes wide. Sabine’s lips were parted as she stared. Kenders imagined she had looked the same when she had first stared at Smithshill.

  As they moved into the city proper, Nikalys and Jak fell back to ride on opposite sides of Sabine, leaving Kenders alone with Broedi. Nikalys would occasionally lean over and whisper to Helene, trying to get the little girl to smile and relax and, after a while, it began to work. Soon, both sisters had settled down and even seemed to be enjoying the strangeness of the city.

  The people of Fernsford were friendly, nodding and wishing them all ‘Good days ahead’ as the column rode past. Besides the beards on the men and a slight difference in fashion, the Southlanders were refreshingly similar to Great Lakes citizens. Broedi and Nundle continued to draw more than a few long stares.

  As the company headed for the market district, they passed through a section of the city where the style of architecture was slightly different. The buildings were taller and wider on average and appeared to have less wear.

  Upon noticing the differences, Kenders felt a flicker of excitement. Staring at Broedi, she asked, “There was a fire here, wasn’t there?”

  The hillman glanced at her and, with a hint of surprise in his voice, said, “Yes, there was. A few decades ago. How did you know?”

  Peering around her, she said, “Our parents said they met here, but they left after a great fire.” She quickly clarified, “And I do not mean Aryn and Eliza.”

  Smiling, Broedi rumbled, “I understand your meaning.” He peered at her closely. “It is interesting that they were here during the fire. Gamin, the head of the…ah…instructors at the enclave—” Kenders knew he meant mages “—was here as well. He and his brother, Sevan. Sons of a baker, I believe.”

  “Will Gamin be one of my teachers, Broedi?”

  The hillman nodded and rumbled, “He will, uora. Although not your first.” A smile touched his lips. “I have someone else in mind for that.”

  “Who?”

  He looked over and said, “I believe I will keep that secret, uora.”

  With a frown and a sigh, Kenders asked, “Why?”

  His grin spread wider than normal.

  “Some surprises are worth the wait.”

  She shook her head, mildly frustrated, and turned her attention back to the newer buildings. After a few moments, she mused, “It’s hard to learn that so much of your history was a lie.”

  “Take comfort in knowing that at least some of it is true.”

  “Where does truth end and playman’s tale begin?”

  “Does it matter?” rumbled the hillman. “Your parents loved you. And I mean all of them. That is what is important.”

  Overcome by a sudden burst of melancholy, she sighed and looked back to her brothers, both of whom were looking around at the bustling city, pointing out things to one another and the Moiléne sisters. A few heartbeats passed before she faced forward. Neither she nor Broedi said another word until they reached the open-air market.

  The soldiers tied their horses to one of the numerous hitching posts flanking the long rows of vendor stalls and gathered in a group. Nundle, the former merchant and the soul with the coin, was to go with them. As they were assembling, Kenders asked the tomble to purchase a new cord to bind her hair. Her last one had snapped and she was tired of having hair in her face.

  While Sergeant Trell talked with the soldiers, discussing what they were to look for and purchase, Broedi turned to the remaining group.

  “Come with me.”

  The Isaacs, Moilénes, and Zecus followed the hillman through several streets, past all sorts of tradesmen and odd shops. Broedi turned from the congested ways, led them down an almost deserted side alley, and stopped beneath a wide sign hanging low over the street. Tilting her head back, Kenders saw the faded painting of a man dressed in green robes, sitting on a stool and resting his arm on the back of a deer.

  The hillman faced them and said, “Tie your horses and go inside. Find a corner table, order something to eat if you like, but say nothing to anyone. Do you understand?”

  Alarmed, Kenders shared a worried look with her brothers.

  Sabine voiced the question they were all thinking.

  “You aren’t coming in with us?”

  Shaking his head, Broedi rumbled, “I am not.”

  “Why?” asked Nikalys.

  “Because I am not.

  “That’s not an answer, Broedi,” said Jak.

  “I know.”

  Frowning, Nikalys sighed and muttered, “Ever the secret-keeper, aren’t you?”

  “I have reasons, uori.”

  “When will you be back?” asked Kenders worriedly.

  “I will not be gone long. I promise.”

  Zecus asked politely, “Do you require assistance, great lion?” Yet again, the Borderlander had not called Broedi by his name.

  Staring hard at Zecus, Broedi said, “Do not call me that. Especially here.” He glanced up and down the dirt alley. For the moment, they were alone.

  Bowing his head, Zecus said, “I beg your forgiveness.”

  Kenders felt a flash of sympathy for the Borderlander. He had simply wanted to help.

  “I do not need help at the moment,” said Broedi. “I need you to do as I say. Go inside, sit down, and wait until I return.”

  If Kenders had learned anything in her
time with the White Lion, it was that arguing with him was like climbing a tree covered with poison yergold. It was possible, but infinitely more trouble than it was worth.

  They dismounted and tied their horses’ reins to the post outside the tavern’s entrance. Jak muttered something about finally getting a good meal, strode to the door, gripped the handle, and pulled. The door rattled but did not open.

  “Seems they’re closed, Broedi.”

  With a slight smile, Broedi said, “Push, uori.”

  Jak shoved the door gently and it cracked open, setting off the tinny ring of a small bell. Looking back, he gave a sheepish grin.

  “My mistake.”

  Nikalys—carrying Helene in his arms—reached up and smacked Jak lightly on the back of the head. The brothers chuckled as they stepped into the building together with Zecus and Sabine following them through the entryway. Kenders paused at the door and looked back to find the hillman watching them. She did not want Broedi to go.

  “You will be fine, uora. I will return shortly.”

  Nodding slowly, she turned and ducked into the dark interior of the tavern. As she closed the door, she looked out to see Broedi already striding down the alley, back in the direction from where they had come. Sighing, she shut the door and faced the dark room. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the dimness.

  A meager amount of sunlight streamed through two windows to her left combining with the light of a half-dozen torches lining the back wall. She counted eight rickety tables in the dingy room, all but one of them empty. The lone, occupied table had a single man with his head resting on his arms that were draped over the tabletop. In the quiet of the room, his loud snoring was clear.

  The sound of wood dragging against wood drew her attention to her right. Looking over, she found everyone around one of the tables, in the midst of pulling out chairs to sit down. She turned and headed for one of the empty chairs. As she arrived, Zecus reached for the back of her chosen chair and pulled it out for her. Surprised, she paused a moment, stared at the man, and gave him a tiny smile.

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded, waiting for her to sit before gently sliding the chair forward for her. Once she was seated, he moved around the table and sat in an empty chair beside Jak, who was to Kenders’ immediate left. Nikalys sat directly across from her, Sabine to her right. Helene had her own chair—a coup for the smiling child—between Nikalys and Sabine.

  As everyone settled, Sabine glanced at Kenders and winked, wordlessly commenting on Zecus’ act of kindness. Kenders was relieved she had the decency to remain silent. Jak, however, was apparently absent of grace. He leaned close and spoke in a low—but not low enough—voice.

  “That was nice of Zecus.”

  She glared at him.

  “Quiet.”

  He gave her a teasing smile and whispered, “I would have pulled it out from under you.”

  Kenders hissed, “And then I would have picked it up and cracked it over your head.”

  Jak leaned back, a wide grin on his face. Kenders stole a quick glance at Zecus, but he seemed unaware of her quick conversation with Jak. The Borderlander was running his hand over the table, staring in wonder at the wooden top.

  Nikalys leaned forward, elbows on the table and said, “Where do you think Broedi—” He cut off as a door that led to a back room creaked open. A bald man with a thick, black beard stuck his head into the room, looked around, and started when he saw them. Pushing the door open completely, he stepped into the room and strode straight to their table. He wore a simple tan tunic, dark cloth breeches, and a greasy stained burlap apron that hung from his neck.

  Stopping before the table, he eyed them all—pausing an extra moment on Zecus—before giving them a wide smile. Kenders noted he was missing more teeth than he still had.

  “Welcome to the Curate and Black Doe. My name is Manique. Good days ahead to you all.”

  The man’s accent was odd. His ‘oh’ sounded like ‘eww’ and each ‘r’ was drawn out. Kenders thought it sounded as if he had food stuffed in his cheeks.

  Once the table completed the traditional greeting, Manique asked, “How might I serve you today?”

  Jak said, “We’d like something to drink and eat, if that’s possible.”

  Manique nodded, saying, “Your thirst I can satisfy. As for your stomach, I’m afraid all I have is morningbread, cheese, and last night’s smoked fish. Nothing fresh yet. We normally do not have visitors until later in the day. Other than old Vone over there.” He threw a thumb in the direction of the sleeping man. “Then again, Vone isn’t much of a visitor. He more or less lives here.” He gave them a wide, toothless grin, chuckling at his own jest.

  Helene stood on her chair, peered across the room, and asked, “Does he always sleep on the table like that?”

  Manique winked and said, “Only when he is not sleeping on the floor, little miss.”

  Helene peered closely at the tavern owner with narrowed eyes.

  “Are you fibbing? Sabine says it’s not right to fib.”

  With an amused smile, Manique said, “Perhaps I am a bit. I apologize.”

  “Sit down,” urged Sabine, her eyes on Helene. “You’ll fall.” The little girl complied with a pouty frown.

  Glancing around the table, Jak said, “Unless anyone objects, I suppose bring us whatever you have.” He reached into the front pocket of his breeches, pulled out the last of the Isaac family’s ducats, and placed them on the table. “And the weakest morningmeal wine you have, please.”

  When no one raised a voice of protest, Manique scooped up the coins and hurried away, disappearing back through the doorway.

  The man had not been gone for a half a breath when Nikalys leaned forward and asked, “Now where do you think Broedi’s off to?”

  Kenders sighed, wondering what the point was of asking a question no one could answer. He might as well have asked, ‘Why does the sun shine?’

  Zecus sat forward and asked, “May I speak, please?”

  Nikalys stared at the Borderlander.

  “Are you asking permission to speak?”

  “I am.”

  With furrowed brow, Nikalys muttered, “Why?”

  Zecus replied as if the answer were obvious.

  “Honor requires it, great warrior.”

  “I told you,” said Nikalys. “Call me ‘Nikalys.’ Nothing more.”

  Kenders added, “And please, call me ‘Kenders.’” As he did with Nikalys and Broedi, the Borderlander always avoided calling her by name.

  Zecus eyed them both, frowned for some reason, and said, “You both honor me. Thank you.” He paused a moment and then asked, “Now, may I speak?”

  Letting loose and exasperated sigh, Nikalys mumbled, “Bless the gods…you don’t need—”

  Interjecting, Jak said, “It’s a Borderlands thing, Nik.” Looking to Zecus, he said, “Go ahead. Say what you wish.”

  Zecus nodded his appreciation, saying, “Something mystifies me about the—” he lowered his voice “—great lion.”

  “Only one thing?” asked Jak.

  The Borderlander smiled. “No. There are many for sure, but one in particular.” Glancing around the table, he asked, “Why does he hold so tightly to his secrets?”

  Kenders chuckled at the question, which seemed to startle the Borderlander. His eyebrows drew together and he sat a little straighter in his chair.

  “I am sorry if my question was ignorant.”

  Kenders leaned forward, shaking her head.

  “No, you misunderstand. I am not laughing at your question. You merely ask something none of us can answer.”

  Zecus’ expression softened.

  “I do apologize for my rush to judgment.”

  She gave him a wide smile.

  “You have to be the politest person I have ever met.”

  Inclining his head, Zecus said, “I do not deserve your kind words, but I thank you for them nonetheless.” He gave her a tiny, sweet smile. />
  Kenders held his gaze for heartbeat or two. His cuts and scrapes were mending nicely, revealing what a pleasant face he had.

  Jak ruined the moment by saying, “Zecus, I have a question for you.”

  “Ask it,” said the Borderlander, reluctantly pulling his gaze from Kenders.

  “Have you ever tried squeezing water from a rock?”

  A blank expression filled Zecus’ face.

  “Pardon?”

  “It’s a saying these three use,” said Sabine. “An attempt to be clever to indicate how difficult it is to get Broedi to share information.”

  Zecus’ eyes widened in understanding. Nodding his head, he said, “It is appropriate.” He glanced around the table. “Yet why is he like that?”

  The room went quiet. A few moments passed before Jak broke the silence.

  “Because you cannot be forced to share that which you do not know.”

  His eyebrows drawing together, Zecus said, “I do not understand. Who would force us to tell?”

  Nikalys murmured, “We’ll be happy to talk about this later.” He nodded his head in Helene’s direction.

  There were certain things of which they did not speak in front of Helene. This was one of them. Sabine had confided in Kenders the little girl already had difficulty sleeping. She did not need something else about which to be scared.

  Zecus looked to the toddler, nodded, and said, “Ah, I see. Of course. Later, then.”

  Helene spoke up, startling them all.

  “I know someone is chasing us.”

  They all turned as one to stare at the little girl. A few quiet moments passed, filled with worried glances exchanged between everyone but Helene. Eventually, Sabine leaned close to her sister and asked, “What was that, dear?”

  “Someone is chasing us,” murmured Helene.

  Trying to reassure the little girl, Sabine smiled and shook her head.

  “No, dear. No one is chasing us.”

  Helene glared at Sabine. “Yes, someone is.” She looked around the table, an expression of absolute certitude on her face. “Someone who is wrong inside.”

  Everyone here had been extremely careful to keep the truth from Helene. They never spoke of the prophecy, Jhaell, or the god of Chaos around her.

 

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