Her body, battered and bruised, didn’t want to cooperate. Raven had to move slow, she was desperate to find Isabella, but she knew her body wasn’t up to the task. She also needed the canteen and supply pack that was on her horse’s corpse. The mountain trail zigzagged down the mountain, eventually came within a couple yards of the dead animal. Raven retrieved what she could from the packs. She left the saddle behind. As saddle without horse under it was useless.
8
THE SUN WAS STARTING TO SET. Slowly the light was failing, shadows spread their wings, warning all beneath the shadows of the coming of night. Raven wanted to get searching for Isabella, but first she needed help. She needed someone with local knowledge of the lands to assist her in tracking the murderous scum who’d ambushed them, killed her friend, and kidnapped Isabella. This village was her best hope.
Nestled in the bottom of the mountains, at the edge of the heavily forested area, was the village. Raven counted at least a hundred houses or buildings in the small meadow. While Raven had previously been trying to avoid large settlements, she now had need of a skilled tracker. Hopefully in such a large village she’d find the type of men needed to get Isabella back.
Raven spotted a man working on his house. He was on the roof of the small house, fixing a shingle. She carefully approached. “Excuse me, Sir?”
The man looked down from the roof. “Yes? What can I do for ye?”
“What is the name of this village?” asked Raven.
“Shelby.”
“Thank you, Sir. And where in Shelby might I find a tracker? Someone with good knowledge of the mountains?”
The man scratched his chin as he pondered Raven’s question. “I’d say you want to head down to the far side of the village. The large building on the east side of the street is the Winking Pig Pub. This time of day it’ll be fairly busy. You’ll find all sorts claiming intimate knowledge of the local mountains. But if it’s a tracker you need, I’d talk to Britt Wistol. He owns the pub, but he’s an honest man. He has a man that does odd jobs for him, one who hunts all over these mountains. He doesn’t look like much, but that man is the one you’ll be wanting.”
Raven looked up the main village street, she could see the building the friendly roof fixer was speaking of. She nodded and lifted her hand towards the roof. “Thank you, Sir. You have my gratitude.”
“Makes me nervous when people call me sir. My name is Alder Tatum. When I’m not mucking up my roof, I’m the local smith.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Alder Tatum, my name is Raven.”
“Raven, it’s none of my concern, but a friendly suggestion. In the woods behind my house you’ll find a path to a creek. If I were you, I’d go wash some of the blood off my face before I went into the Winking Pig. A big lass like you, carrying a battle axe and covered in blood, might give people the wrong idea.”
Raven gave a grim smile as she squinted up at the wise blacksmith. “I think that might be a prudent decision.” He’s right, thought Raven, I probably would scare them to death or have them thinking I’m some rogue bandit to be killed at the first opportunity. They certainly would think twice before helping me.
“Well, I suppose you would get their attention, but you might not get the reception you’re looking for if you walk into that pub looking like you’re fresh from battle. Some of the lads that frequent the Pig would take that as an invitation to start a fight. You can ignore most of them, a bunch of talkers, but there are a few that are dangerous. But I’d stay away from them. Talk to Britt. He’ll steer you to what you need.”
Raven could sense that Alder Tatum has judged her appearance and surmised that her need was great. She could sense that the blacksmith was an intelligent sort, and that he spoke highly of this man Britt, gave her hope that she might find the help she needed. “If you make your way to the pub later, I’ll gladly buy you an ale. Your words have been well received. Now, I’ll go find that creek.”
Alder gave a small formal nod from his roof perch. “I might just take you up on that.”
Despite the coming dark of night, the path to the creek was easy to find and Raven cleaned herself up. There wasn’t too much blood on her clothing or her thick leather armor. Mostly, the blood was caked on her face, a result of the fall down the side of the mountain. The cuts weren’t critical wounds, but they were deep enough that they left considerable amounts of blood on her face that had only partially been cleaned by the rains. Raven gave her long dark hair a quick rinse and her practiced fingers quickly weaved her locks into a braid. Satisfied that she was at least presentable, Raven went to the pub.
The Winking Pig was like most village taverns Raven had entered before. It had an assortment of small and large tables, a large fireplace that gave the large building a cozy warm feel, and a large bar counter. The crowd was fairly noisy and boisterous; no one took notice of her entrance, something Raven was glad of. Sometimes when walking into a small village pub you would be marked as an outsider and treated with distrust. Obviously Shelby was big enough of a village that one new face walking in didn’t register as important.
The bartender, who Raven assumed was Britt Wistol, the man she was looking for, was busy. The main bar was two deep with customers. In fact, almost half of the patrons in the bar seemed to be crammed together along the bar. In order to speak to the man, she’d have to make her way through the sea of bodies and find a spot along the bar counter.
When a patron took his mug of ale and vacated his spot at the bar, Raven moved quick to fill the spot before another patron could fill it.
Raven leaned over the counter and waited for her opportunity to get the bartender’s attention.
Suddenly, Raven felt a hand grab her ass and giving it a firm squeeze.
Raven stiffed and stood straight up. Her face turned red as she whipped her head around to see whose hand needed to be removed, but the hand was gone. Who dared to touch her so? She was a warrior, not some bar wench to be molested by some ignorant farmer. She looked to the man next to her, but he had both hands on his drink and was too busy filling his mouth to have been the culprit. Looking past the first man on her right, she saw the next man at the bar. He had his right arm on the bar with his head propped up against it as if he was sleeping, but his left arm was hanging down beside him.
As Raven inspected the slovenly looking man, his eyes opened and looked at her. Raven was sure this was the bastard who’d grabbed her ass. She pushed the first man aside so she could get to the cur and teach him some manners. “Filthy dog,” she snarled as she smacked him across the face with a backhand.
The hard slap sent the man sprawling to the ground. As he tried to get to his feet, Raven sent him back to the ground with a hard kick to the ribs.
The man groaned as the air was knocked out of him. He stopped moving.
Raven grabbed him by the back of his collar and dragged his limp body to the door of the pub. With her left, she opened the door, and then in an impressive display of strength, picked the man up with one hand and threw him out onto the street. She turned and stormed back to the bar. She made eye contact with each of the men stood near her. Her eyes blazing in anger, dared any man to speak out against her hitting the bastard.
“What can I get you?” asked the bartender.
Raven turned and the bartender was standing in front of her spot, casually wiping a mug clean.
“Are you Britt Wistol?” she asked.
“Yes, that is I.”
“Alder Tatum suggested I speak to you. I have need of a tracker and he suggested you’d know who to get.”
Britt Wistol kept cleaning his mug. He inspected it carefully and then put it down on the counter. He looked at Raven and nodded, “Yes, I might know a man, depending on what you need a tracker for.”
“I was part of a group traveling south through the mountains. We were ambushed. My companion Eron was murdered and the young girl I was traveling with was kidnapped. I was knocked down a cliff unconscious. When I woke, it was raining and
all signs of the ambush were washed away. I need someone who knows the mountains to help me save her.”
“Well, that certainly is a valid reason for needing a tracker. With the rains, a normal tracker would have little chance of finding them if they take any care to hiding their tracks. You’ll need an exceptional tracker who knows the mountains.” Britt scratched behind his ears, he looked uncomfortable.
Raven nodded, “Yes, that is exactly what I seek. Do you have someone who could help me?”
Britt’s hand moved from scratching his ear to his chin. “There are a few mountain men in here tonight, but with all due respect to them, there is only one man who could help you. But there is a slight problem with that.”
“What problem would that be?” asked Raven. What tracker wouldn’t help rescue a child?
Britt stopped fidgeting and took a deep breath. “Well, for one he’s a drunk. So getting him sober enough to be of use could take a while. Secondly, you just finished beating him up and throwing him out of my bar.”
Raven frowned, her brow knotted up at the bartender’s words. Sheep dung! Raven cursed in her mind. Of all the rotten luck! The one man who could help her couldn’t keep his hands to himself. “Is there anyone else?”
“Sure, like I said, there are several mountain men in here tonight that would probably try to help you. But none are half the woodsman Kai is. Even drunk, he’s better in the woods than any man I’ve ever known.”
“Damn the gods,” swore Raven. She didn’t have time to waste. The longer it took to find a tracker the harder it would be to find the trail.
“If ye don’t mind me asking, why did you dispose of Kai like that?”
“I’ll let no man be putting his hands on me without my consent. I’m not some bar maiden willing to let strangers touching her ass,” said Raven hotly.
Britt Wistol chuckled, “You think Kai Woods grabbed your ass?”
The men beside Raven, all who had been listening in on her conversation with the bartender, started to laugh along with the bartender.
“I said something to amuse you?” Raven asked Britt. Her temper threatening to flare up again.
Britt raised his hands in a submissive gesture. “Yes, I’m afraid you did. I can pretty much guarantee Kai is not the man who grabbed your ass.”
“Is that so?” asked Raven. She doubted Britt would be able to convince her otherwise.
“Absolutely,” said Britt. “First, Kai, drunk or sober, is always a gentleman to the ladies. I have two young ladies that work for me, and I’ve had to knock many a skull for the lads having a case of wandering hands, Kai has never been one of the skulls that I had to knock around. Second, Kai has been passed out for the last two hours. So I rather doubt he did it.” Britt turned his eyes to the crowd around Raven. “Okay, lads, someone better confess or I’ll cut each and every one of you off for two months.”
Raven glanced around, had she overreacted? If she lost Isabella because she beat up the only tracker who could help her, she’d die of regret.
The crowd looked around at each other. No one wanted to be cut off. Britt had the best ale within a hundred miles and would keep his word. He’d stop serving every one of them.
Finally, a man to Raven’s left raised his hand. “My apologies, I was just admiring a fine bottom. I had no idea that it would get poor Kai whipped.”
Britt swore, “Dammit, Keifer, I’ve warned you about keeping your hands to yourself. Now, Kai has taken a beating you rightly deserved.”
Keifer shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. “I suppose I’ll owe the man a drink or two.”
“It’ll be more than that,” said Britt as he pointed at Keifer. You’ll be buying his drinks for a month.”
Keifer’s smiled disappeared. “Kai Woods’s drinks for a month? I’d be better off taking the beating.” He then turned and took another look at Raven. “On second thought, I’ll take the month.”
Raven closed her eyes. She had beaten the man without cause. The gods must hate her! Raven stared at Keifer, she wanted to beat the man anyways, but she was already pushing her luck. She needed these men to help convince this Kai to help her, despite the fact she’d just beaten him and thrown him onto the muddy streets for no cause. Raven turned her attention back to Britt. “It is vital that I have help. Can you get him to help me?”
Britt pointed to a table at the far end of the bar. “Go have a seat. I’ll go speak to Kai and see if I can sort this mess out.”
…
Kai groaned in pain. For some reason a barbarian had decided to take offense to him. Perhaps he needed a bath? Regardless of the reason, Kai was cold, wet, and unsure of what to do next. He wanted to go back into the warm pub and have another drink. He still had coin, but risking the wrath of the barbarian was not worth it.
Kai took a deep breath, he felt pain but not to the degree that he could without the benefit of the mind numbing ale. He likely had bruised ribs from the heavy kick. They didn’t feel painful enough to be broken. His face was starting to swell and as he lifted his hand to his mouth he felt blood. A bloody lip and bruised ribs, whatever he’d done to offend the barbarian, he’d definitely been well rewarded for the offense.
“What are you doing there sitting in the mud?”
Kai turned to look at Britt. “Thinking.”
“You’re cold and wet, why don’t you come inside?”
Kai shook his head, “I’m thinking that’s a bad idea.” The barbarian was inside after all.
“Look, Kai, you took that beating because Keifer grabbed the wrong woman’s ass. She thought it was you and … well, you know the rest.”
Kai thought his ears might be failing him, perhaps the barbarian had hit him harder than he thought. “What girl? A barbarian did this.”
Britt gave a small chuckle, “Sure, a barbarian, but an attractive one. And according to Keifer, one with a nice ass.”
A girl? A girl had kicked his ass and thrown him out onto the street. Shit! How embarrassing? This is how far I’ve fallen, thought Kai as he struggled to get up.
Britt gave Kai a hand up. “And don’t be moping about because a girl kicked your ass. You’ve gotten fat and lazy these last few years. This woman is a real warrior. She would’ve given you troubles on your best day. Besides, she did you a favor. Keifer is buying your drinks for the next month.”
A month of free drinks sounded good to Kai, really good. “Would he go for two months if she did it again?”
Britt shook his head in pity, “No, Kai, I’ll not allow you to become a human punching bag so that you can drink yourself to death. It’s bad enough I let you drink as much as I do. Now, let’s go inside and have a chat with the woman. She has need of you.”
“You want me to help the barbarian woman who just beat my ass?” asked Kai.
“Yes, as strange as that sounds, I do,” admitted Britt.
Kai wondered what the seven hells Britt was thinking, but Britt was one of the few men who always treated him with respect and provided Kai with the means to drown his sorrows. Kai didn’t want to have Britt angry with him. He’d talk to the barbarian woman. Hopefully, she’d calmed down.
Britt took Kai to the table where Raven was waiting. He pulled out the chair for Kai and gently shoved him into it. “Raven, meet Kai Woods. Kai this is Raven, the poor young lady Keifer was molesting.”
Kai looked at the barbarian. She was definitely a woman. A large barbarian woman, certainly from the lands of Solotine. She was much too large to have been born on the Isle of Seron. Tall, with thick shoulders and muscular arms, she was also distinctly feminine. An ample chest, long dark hair in a braid, classic attractive facial features that were marked up with scars and a few fresh cuts. It seemed this wasn’t her first altercation of the day.
“I’m sorry for what happened,” said Raven, her face filled with remorse. “I lost my temper and I made a mistake. I hope you can forgive me.”
Kai bobbed his head up and down in a brief nod of acknowledgment of her apology. �
�Britt told me what happened. I’ll have a chat with Keifer later about that. You and I are good. I hold no grudge.”
Raven’s shoulders seemed to relax at his words. “Thank you. Did Britt tell you of my situation?”
Kai shook his head. “No, just that you needed help.”
“I was traveling with companions through the mountain pass. We were ambushed. My traveling companion was murdered and a girl kidnapped. I fell down the side of the cliff and was knocked unconscious. When I awoke, the rain had washed away the tracks. I need to get the girl back. She’s only eleven and among enemies.”
Murder didn’t move Kai. “Murdered,” was a victim’s way of saying they’d lost a battle, badly. The claim of ambush, didn’t move Kai to sympathy either. A smart enemy would use any advantage, in this case an ambush, to defeat their enemy. But kidnapping an eleven-year-old-girl was wrong. That did move Kai. That was not war, nor was it honorable to stand by and let it happen. “When did the attack happen?”
“Yesterday, about mid-afternoon.”
Sisera's Gift (Dragonblood Sagas Book 2) Page 4
