The wagons had each been loaded with forty bags of grain, either barley, rye, or wheat. They were sold in forty-bag lots by type, and the Army ended up buying two lots of each. Once the grain was all sold, the wagons and teams were offered for sale, but the bidding was disappointing. They all sold, but for far less than Trader Sahren had hoped for. In the end, the whole caravan was sold for just four hundred and sixty gold crowns, less than one-third of its estimated value. Each member of the caravan, trader and warrior alike, received eleven gold crowns, seven silver crowns, and nine sparks. The remainder after everyone received an equal share was nineteen sparks, and Sahren shook her head sadly as she slid them into her pouch.
Only Sahren and Barvil had been involved with the actual auction. The rest of the caravan had been involved in their normal trading endeavors. Barvil joined his men and Sahren joined Rahlina, each disappointed by the outcome of the salvage sale.
The caravan left Kel'Cardak's Crossing the next morning, crossing the bridge that had been built beside the ford. Stavin signed for the toll, the first time since they had crossed the Zel'Horgan, and the caravan continued west.
Chapter 14
STAVIN SPENT A LOT OF HIS time thinking about the bandit troops. The fact that he had killed Evandian army troops weighed heavily on his mind. How could the troops the king counts on to protect his people betray his trust like that? he asked himself over and over, but found no answer.
The caravan continued along the border, stopping to trade when Trader Sahren thought it would be worthwhile to do so. Stavin caught himself staring at anyone in an Army uniform, and was surprised by his feelings of betrayal.
Barvil noticed Stavin's preoccupation while he was on watch in the town of Zel'Jarvin's Garden. "Stavin, you've got to let it go. There is no evidence that any other troops were involved."
"Am I that obvious, Sir?" Stavin asked as he looked up at Barvil.
"To us, yes, you are. And you have to remember that we have no proof against the men we fought, other than what we saw. They weren't in uniform, so it was only the fact that we recognized the sergeant that told us who they really were. If not for him, they could have just been bandits who'd stolen Army horses. It happens."
"I'm sorry, Sir. I just can't help feeling like there's more to it than just a few troops turning bandit."
Barvil slapped Stavin's shoulder and walked away while Stavin continued his rounds. The night remained calm and he nodded to Aldric and said, "Nothing to report," when the watch changed.
It took three days to reach the next large town.
The city of Forester's Pass was located at the mouth of Forester's Pass, one of the major trade routes through the Mountains of Sorrow up into Andaria. Thirty thousand souls called it home, and a large fortress stood at the crossroads.
Trader Sahren led her wagons into the caravansary and had them circled for trade. The warriors split into hands and began rounds, and it wasn't long before men and women began coming to the caravan to trade.
One man came for another reason. He was dressed in an Evandian Army uniform and had the insignia of a colonel on his breast. Barvil met with him briefly, then led him to where Stavin was walking his route.
"Friend Stavin, this is Lord Colonel Zel'Darvin."
Stavin stopped and bowed deeply, then said, "I am honored to meet you, Sir," before snapping to attention.
"The honor is mine, Friend Stavin. Lord General Zel'Alden invites you to dine with us tonight."
Stavin bowed, then looked at Barvil. "Warmaster Kel'Carin, may I accept this invitation?"
"Warmaster?" the colonel asked, looking at Barvil's shoulder.
Barvil bowed slightly and said, "Yes, Sir." Turning back to Stavin, he nodded. "We can do without you on watch right now, Friend Stavin. Make an effort to be back before mid night."
"Yes, Sir!" Stavin snapped before turning to the colonel. "Lord Colonel Zel'Darvin, I am at your disposal."
The colonel was still looking at Barvil's shoulder and seemed to be having a hard time shifting his attention back to Stavin. Then he took a deep breath and bowed slightly. "This way, Friend Stavin." He led Stavin away through the crowd.
"Friend Stavin," the colonel began as they walked, "how is it that your team is led by a Warmaster?"
"That's partially my fault, Sir, because of this armor. Another part of it is that this team also includes Warleader Sixth Karvik Kel'Carin, the Warmaster's only son. But the main reason is that Warmaster Kel'Horval is ahead by two kills." He glanced up to grin at the colonel. "If Warmaster Kel'Carin wants to take over control of the Academy, he's going to need two more kills."
The colonel was looking down at Stavin with a peculiar expression on his face. "Your ranks include two Warmasters?"
"Yes, Sir," Stavin answered.
"Isn't it a bit excessive to have two men ranked that high?"
Stavin tilted his head to the side before he answered. "They have both earned the rank, Sir. It wouldn't make any sense to hold either of them back."
"Earned how, Friend Stavin?"
"The four stars of a Warmaster denote greater than one hundred kills in combat."
"And? It must indicate something else."
Stavin shrugged. "Experience. Knowledge. Weapon's skill." Stavin glanced toward his shoulder. "Pure, dumb luck."
The colonel followed his glance. "A hollowed star? Warleader Fifth, if I remember the old code correctly."
"Yes, Sir."
The colonel stopped to stare at Stavin. "Your forgiveness, Friend Stavin, but I thought your rank was in acknowledgement of the king's favor."
Stavin took a step back, away from the colonel. "No, Sir. I have forty-three combat kills."
The colonel was looking at Stavin's shoulder and sighed, "Gods Below. Friend Stavin, how many years have you been doing this?"
Stavin bowed slightly as he said, "This is my second expedition to the low lands, Sir."
The colonel's eyebrows drew down in confusion. "How old are you?"
"I've seen sixteen years, Sir."
The colonel got them going again but remained silent until they reached the fortress. He led Stavin to an ornate office and announced him. "Lord General Beardan Zel'Alden, it is my pleasure to present Friend of Evandia Stavin Kel'Aniston, Warleader Fifth of Kel'Kavin."
Stavin bowed deeply as the general stood behind his desk and bowed slightly. "Friend Stavin, welcome to Fort Zel'Fairess."
Stavin bowed deeply as he replied, "I am honored, Lord General Zel'Alden."
"Dahral Zel'Fordal was very impressed with you last year, Friend Stavin. But he called you a sergeant, not a Warleader Fifth."
Stavin nodded slightly as he said, "Yes, Sir."
"Yes, Sir, what, Friend Stavin?"
"Yes, Sir, I was a sergeant when we visited Fort Zel'Marran last season, Sir," Stavin said as he snapped back to attention.
"How were you promoted so fast, Friend Stavin?" Colonel Zel'Darvin asked.
"It's a long story, Sir, but essentially it came down to so many men trying to kill me to get this armor. I finished out last season with thirty combat kills and I've added thirteen this season."
"You've killed forty-three men, Friend Stavin?"
"Yes, Sir," he said with a hint of the pride he felt coloring his voice.
The general exchanged a glance with the colonel. "This is a story I'd like to hear in full."
Stavin bowed in reply, but didn't say anything.
* * *
Stavin matched pace with Karvik when he returned to the caravan late that night. "They just wanted to hear that damn story about the dragon again," he grumbled as they walked.
Karvik chuckled. "Anything else?"
"Good food. The general's cook is a master. I told them the story about last season as well, but skipped most of this season. Especially-"
"Yeah, that'd be a bad thing to tell them."
Stavin walked away toward the center of the caravan and found Barvil waiting for him. "Anything of interest, Stavin?"
"No, Sir, just a request for that story. I need some kava." Barvil nodded as Stavin poured himself a mug. "They wanted to know how I made rank so fast, so I told them that story as well. The general and his staff seemed impressed."
As the caravan left the next morning, a contingent of over three hundred soldiers, led by Lord General Zel'Alden himself, lined the road. At the bugle call every man rendered a sword-salute to Barvil.
The general stepped forward and bowed. "Warmaster, it's been an honor to have you in our city. Perhaps next time we can arrange for you and your men to join us."
Barvil bowed in the saddle as he replied, "We would be honored, Lord General Zel'Alden."
The caravan continued until Stavin came abreast of Lord Colonel Zel'Darvin. The colonel bowed deeply, then glanced over his shoulder. Stavin followed his glance to see a hundred young soldiers with Dragon's Tongues at salute. Stavin drew his Dragon's Tongue and returned the salute until he'd passed all of the troops.
Chapter 15
BECAUSE OF THE MANY DETOURS AND delays that they had already encountered, Trader Sahren decided to change their route. She had planned on covering the entire northern border, but mid summer was fast approaching and they weren't anywhere near the western border of Evandia.
In Kartalvad, she decided to turn south. There was a major road that would deliver them to Barren's Bridge in eighteen days, but only five small towns were along it. This was farm country, and the towns were seldom larger than Ormund had been. Often they were little more than trading centers where the farmers exchanged what they had grown for what they couldn't make or grow themselves.
Kartalvad marked a turning point of a different sort for Stavin. He turned seventeen the day before they arrived, and he celebrated his birthday by buying half a cow and arranging for it to be cooked at the caravan for the enjoyment of his friends, warrior and trader alike.
The first that anyone other than Stavin knew of it was when men arrived with the beef and started setting up a fire pit to cook it over. Barvil walked over as Stavin was giving orders to the cooks and stopped behind Stavin's shoulder.
"And just what is all this?" Barvil asked, making Stavin jump.
"Sir, I didn't see you," Stavin said as he came to attention. "Yesterday was the seventeenth anniversary of my birth."
Barvil looked at the side of beef that was being hoisted over the fire. "Most men just have one steak."
Stavin grinned as he glanced at the huge piece of meat. "I decided to share, Sir. I have some celebrating to catch up on."
"How so?" Barvil asked. "I don't remember you having much of a celebration last year."
"I didn't celebrate last year," Stavin said in a hushed tone. "I haven't since I stopped growing. My eleventh year celebration was the last time I felt there was something about it worth celebrating."
Barvil reached out and grabbed Stavin's shoulder, then gave him a little shake. "There's an old country saying that it's not the size of the dog in the fight that matters, it's the size of the fight in the dog. That's something we all should have remembered in your case."
Stavin grinned up at Barvil and said, "Arf!" just as Trader Sahren walked up.
"You won't be joining us tonight?" she asked as she looked at the fire pit.
"No, Ma'am," Stavin replied. "I thought I'd invite you to join me for a change." In answer to her puzzled look, he explained.
Sahren smiled and bowed to Stavin. "We would all be pleased to share your birthing day celebration with you, Stavin." She turned away and began passing the word to her family while Stavin and Barvil rejoined the rest of the warriors.
"Stavin is providing our evening meal tonight," Barvil said as they joined the others. "He's decided to celebrate the anniversary of his birth in style." Everyone spent a few moments congratulating Stavin, then he and Karvik joined Rolas and Sharvit patrolling the caravan.
It was after sundown before the men cooking the beef pronounced it ready to eat. Beans in a sweet, tangy sauce, roasted tubers, and freshly baked bread accompanied the beef, and a cask of beer provided refreshments for everyone. Even so, the discipline of the warriors held, and none of them had more than two mugs of beer. The same couldn't be said of the traders.
Stavin was talking to Angeleese and Damlan when the caravan's cook, a man Stavin saw every day but couldn't call by name, staggered up and placed a hand on Stavin's shoulder.
"Shtavin, boy, congraviltins. Congratulations. But I want you to know how hurt I am that you hired others to cook your feast. Hurt. Yeah, I'm hurt," the cook said, widening and then narrowing his eyes as he tried to focus on Stavin.
Stavin joined Angeleese and Damlan laughing at the cook, then Stavin said, "But if I had asked you, you would have been cooking instead of celebrating. You deserve a day to celebrate once in a while."
"Thash right! I do! I do. I did? What did I do?" he asked, looking puzzled.
"You drank too much beer, Uncle Endar," Angeleese said with a laugh. "Come along, let's get you to bed so you can get up early and fix our morning meal."
"Thash right, I have to cook in the morning. Can't be shtaying up all night like you youngsters. Need my sleep." The cook, who Stavin had just learned was named Endar, staggered away with Angeleese and Damlan on either arm.
The caravan moved on in the morning after a morning meal of oat porridge and strong willow-bark tea for most of the traders. There was leftover sliced beef and bread for those who had been more moderate in their drinking, and a lot of laughter at the expense of those who hadn't.
When the caravan was ready to roll, there was still a lot of food left over and Stavin turned to Barvil for advice. "What should I do, Sir? Endar, the cook, he just grumbled at me when I asked him."
Barvil looked at Stavin, then over to the side of the caravansary. "Do you see those children and the adults behind them?" At Stavin's nod, he continued. "Invite them over here. The caravansary is normally off limits to them to keep them from bothering the traders by begging, but you, Friend Stavin, can let them in to finish your feast."
Stavin looked at Barvil for a moment, then turned and waved for the children to come to him. At first only a few of the older boys came forward, and their postures made it obvious that they were ready to run at the slightest provocation. When the first were close enough, Stavin spoke.
"I welcome you to share in my birthing day feast. Take all you wish. No one will deny you."
The first boy, a strapping youth of about seven, bowed a little, then picked up a piece of meat and stuffed it into his mouth. When nothing happened, he grabbed another. More children came forward now and joined him, and a few adults followed cautiously behind them.
Stavin looked at Barvil and asked, "Who are they?"
"The poor of this city," Barvil answered, watching the people as they quickly ate what was left of the feast.
"I've read of poor in other kingdoms, but I didn't think we had any," Stavin said, looking at the raggedly dressed people as they ravenously devoured the leftovers.
"We, Stavin Kel'Aniston of Kavinston, don't," Barvil said. "We'd never permit it because we're all so closely related. Here in Evandia, it's a different story. Even in most of Farindia, it's different. These people don't-"
"What's going on here?" a man's voice bellowed, interrupting Barvil. Most of the people around the food froze, except the few who immediately ran away.
Barvil and Stavin turned to face a man dressed in rich clothing as he stormed across the caravansary field. "What are you doing in here? You know it's forbidden and the-"
"I invited them," Stavin shouted, drowning the man out. "I invited them to take the last of my birthing day feast."
"You have no authority to let these people in here. They are forbidden by city ordinance. I don't know who you think you are, but-"
"I am Friend of Evandia Stavin Kel'Aniston, Warleader Fifth of Kel'Kavin," Stavin said loudly as he stepped forward to confront the man. He held his Dragon's Tongue horizontally to block the man's path. "You w
ill let these people eat."
The man froze in his tracks, though it was impossible to tell whether it was because of the gold-clad warrior or his claim to be a Friend of Evandia. "Lord Mayor Zel'Aldar will hear of this outrage," the man snapped.
"So will her Highness, Princess Marina," Stavin replied coldly. "Go complain if you wish, but make it plain to the good Lord Mayor that I will be seeking an audience with the princess as soon as we reach Twin Bridges again."
"You wouldn't dare," the man hissed.
Stavin laughed in his face. "I stood face-to-face with a dragon to get this armor. After that, there are few things I wouldn't dare." Turning, Stavin saw that most of the food was gone and only a few adults remained at the table. "Take it all with you. Take it to your families, to the people who weren't here to share."
Men and women began stuffing bread and meat into their clothes, and one enterprising old woman filled her leather hat with the last of the beans. In a matter of moments the table was bare of the leftover food, and even most of the bones had vanished. The people bowed to Stavin as they left, and he returned those bows as if they had come from Chosen lords and ladies.
"This is not the proper use of your title," the man from the caravansary snarled.
"No. If I were to use my title properly, I'd take you before the lord mayor for your insolence," Stavin said as he focused his attention on the man again. "If you truly wish to pursue this, I will accompany you to the lord mayor right now." The man's expression changed dramatically as his favorite threat was turned back on him. He shook his head vigorously, and Stavin smiled. "I thought not."
Without another word, Stavin turned and mounted his horse. Barvil was right beside him, and they hurried to catch up with the caravan.
They had only ridden a few dozen paces before Barvil started laughing. "Oh, Stavin, that was magnificent! I thought he was going to faint when you threatened to take him before the lord mayor."
"I just want to get away from this place, Sir," Stavin said in a sour tone. "I can't understand how this can happen in such a thriving society. How can they allow the poor to exist like that?"
Traders and Traitors (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 2) Page 11
