I had now abandoned trying to remain unobserved by other travellers. My efforts to leave the road and travel in the brush had quickly become tedious. More embarrassingly, I had observed others walking more warily near where I had secretly ducked off the road, and it had become clear I was not unobserved. One group had even called out to my hiding location to wish me well. And so, now, I kept to the road. We would meet openly on the road, talk politely, part, and continue our respective journeys. It was pleasant, and I found myself eager to spot another caravan or group of travellers.
Soon after I left Belger, I had spied a caravan approaching from ahead of me to the East. I used my senses to determine it was a small one made up of only two carts, four hired guards, the owner and his wife. The bond they shared was bright and vibrant to my senses. They slowed the horses as we closed, and, when they stopped the cart, I raised a hand in greeting. The guards studied me closely, but, with me so clearly being a young man, I didn't pose much of a threat. I think they were simply glad to be able to rest for a moment. The couple waved in return and called out to me, gesturing for me to approach. I walked forward, nodding to one of the guards as I passed him. I looked up to the owners on the wagon bench.
"Good day to you, gentle folk," I said in greeting, bowed, and made the sign of the Word, three fingers up and spread, thumb holding the pinkie down and with the palm forward. "The Word is the Path."
"Likewise, young sir," answered the man sitting on the cart bench with the reins loosely held. He wore a tam and loosely woven tunic and pants. Perfect for the heat. He was heavily freckled and his arms were sunburnt and red. He smiled, then, from behind his wire-frame spectacles, surprisingly thick, and bobbed his head, relaxed and looked to the woman seated next to him.
"Greetings," she said with a full smile and lowered her head politely. The brim of her large straw sun hat bobbed up and down with her motion. It was a lovely bright yellow woven straw hat, hand-painted with exquisitely detailed sunflowers. She was a short woman, with strikingly green hazel eyes. The crinkles at the corners of her eyes exposed the mirth and joy that was her constant companion. She made the sign toward me in return. "The Truth will set us free," she replied.
The man pushed the brim of his tam up so he could take a good look at me and I could see he was completely bald. I stole a glance over to the guards who remained within sword reach and I could see they were watching me with only bored curiosity. I was relieved to see their hands remained clear of the pommels of their sheathed swords. I could also see the rearmost guard was not watching us at all but was instead intent on looking to both sides of the road toward the distant tree lines. I returned my gaze to the man and woman and tried to look as non-threatening as I could. My senses felt nothing threatening coming from them. They were middle-aged, cheery, and by the amount of dust on their clothes and carts, they likely had been on the road for some span of days. They were dressed in the loose-fitting clothes typically seen on people from the eastern shore. They seemed good people.
"I'm Will," I said. "Out of Jaipers and travelling to Laketown." My destination was obvious but I felt no need to mention Jergen. "I gather herbs and sell them at market. Well, met."
"I'm Domhnall Lynn and this is my wife, Maire. We're travelling to the market in Jaipers. We hail from Laketown, young sir."
"Hello," I replied and nodded to both. I was starting to feel foolish.
"Well, young sir," said Maire and her smile grew broader. I sensed she found my discomfort amusing. "Wonderfully clear weather we are having. It has made the road that much faster than we could have hoped."
"True words," I replied. "I would not complain if the temperature were slightly less oven-like," and I mopped my brow and laughed and they joined me. I felt what little tension remained quickly fade. It was these moments I cherished these days: the peaceful and comfortable meeting of new people and the quick sharing of experiences. My days of being alone in the wild were quickly being replaced by a yearning for a better understanding of people in general. My ability to sense how people felt and would likely react was a huge boon for me and probably the only reason I could bear to stand and talk for so long.
"You'll enjoy Jaipers," I volunteered. "The market is rather large and quite diverse. They have commerce through to Port West. But you probably knew already." I felt my face redden.
They nodded together. "Yes," they spoke together and startled, then stopped abruptly and looked at each other and laughed. Domhnall nodded for his wife to continue. "We have a unique sweet to sell there and hope the West market will develop a taste for it." Domhnall nodded at her words. "We have already established a good hold in Laketown and Jergen and have small shops there. We're on a reconnaissance mission of sorts. Our hope is that Jaipers will open the West."
I raised my eyebrows at this. It was not every merchant who managed to establish a shop, let alone two. Certainly only the most prosperous were able to do so. These two must be doing well and I wondered what they sold. The four guards with them were alone worth quite the number of groats to maintain, arm and feed. The mercenary guilds were quite specific on costs and provisions to be provided as a minimum to guard companies. I could see these guards were of the reputable sort. I had met enough guards in Jaipers and here on the road to be able to recognise the order, discipline, and well cared for equipment of these men.
"Quite impressive," I said and meant it. I then spoke about my experiences in the marketplace in Jaipers with my herbs and what worked well and then mentioned the Reeve and the cook at the inn. I felt I could trust these two and knowing they were heading to Jaipers had me considering asking a simple request. "Could you say hello to the Reeve for me? He'll be grateful to hear word of me." They quickly agreed to speak to Reeve Comlin and promised to stay and eat at the inn. I then suggested which stall they should seek to acquire in the market, explaining the sun didn't touch it as much throughout the day and buyers would favour it to escape the heat. "But you will need to be early to capture the corner!" I warned and they thanked me.
I asked them about their product and, at once, their eyes lit up with the pleasure of the telling. I could see the pride in their eyes as the wife quickly rummaged in a large shoulder bag she had placed beside her on the bench and drew out a few samples and handed them down to me. I stared at the strangely shaped little wooden sticks with clear coloured crystals stuck onto it.
"It is called Rock Cane," they explained excitedly each talking over the other. Their auras lit up with their faces. The guards rolled their eyes and looked away, clearly having heard this many times before. "We invented this lovely sweet by accident one day. A truly fortuitous accident! We found we could form these rock-like crystals out of a new sweet source that has started to attract interest in Jergen and in the capital. We flavour it with extracts of peppermint or spearmint and form the crystals on the small stick you see there."
I looked at the stick in my hand. It was a simply a carved piece of wood roughly resembling a plain walking stick and hence the name they gave it. I could see the hard clustered crystals were grown on the wood through this secret process they had discovered. I tentatively took a taste and was rewarded with a strong peppermint flavour and intense sweetness. My intake of breath felt cool and refreshing. The sweetness filled my mouth and I salivated at the pleasure. They must have seen the pleasure in my eyes for they laughed.
"See?" they exclaimed together. "Wonderful, no?"
I nodded in vigorous agreement and took another taste and then another. Addictive little things, I realised, and I was suddenly glad I had been given a few more to take with me.
I gave them some of my herbs and they exclaimed at the bounty and strength of them. They couldn't stop praising my mint, pinching the leaves and inhaling the smell. We talked for a while longer until it was time to resume our journeys. They were a friendly couple and I was certain they would do well in Jaipers and beyond and I told them so. The leader of the guards politely asked me, during a pause, if there was any trouble on the
road ahead and was visibly relieved when I told him I had travelled alone from Jaipers and had seen no sign of bandits or highwaymen anywhere along the route. They asked about the garrison in Jaipers and were pleased to hear Captain Gendred ran a tight group. These were professional mercenaries and took their business seriously. Their guild was very strict about enforcing the laws of the Realm. They had to be to continue to allow their men to be openly armed.
We said our farewells and parted soon after. It had been a pleasant meeting. I sucked greedily at one of the confections as I walked, and marveled at the cool and strongly sweet flavour. The caravan owners might be on to something, I thought. It certainly explained their having two shops. The sweet was startlingly energising, and my step seemed lighter for the consumption. I reached out with my senses and was surprised to see the energy clustered in the sweet. It was such a concentration of energy, much more so than the honey to which I was accustomed. I was glad I had a few more stuffed in my backpack. They would come in handy on the road.
As much as the sweet cheered me up, it was the news from the mercenary guard that the road was clear all the way to Laketown that was of much happier interest to me. I found myself relaxing and enjoying my journey all the more now I knew bandits were not patrolling the road ahead. I lengthened my stride and walked confidently forward towards Laketown, a smile ghosting across my features. It was a mile later that I realised I should have had the couple bring a note to Reeve Comlin and felt the fool.
Behind Will and out of sight, Peter Custard and Jeremy Lions cursed the delay and waited patiently as they watched the Target finish speaking to the couple in the wagon and finally continue on his way. Peter relaxed his jaw and motioned for Jeremy to remain still. He kept an eye on the couple as the horses took up the traces and the wagon slowly resumed its journey. The couple and their guards would pass near Peter and Jeremy's hiding place, but they were deep in a laughing conversation and oblivious to their surroundings. Not one to take unnecessary risks, Peter hunkered down a little deeper behind the bushes. Can't be too careful, he thought.
Jeremy and he were members of the Sect and under orders direct from Seth Farlow, their Sect Leader. They had travelled with Dennis Petard, known simply as the Knife, from Munsten all the way to Jaipers on a simple but important mission — a mission Peter and Dennis had successfully completed many times in the past. But all their plans had fallen apart in an instant and now they were scrambling to set things right. Peter keenly felt the loss of the Knife. He had been the eldest and the leader of their group and now he felt the weight of command. He knew if they didn't recover the Target that Seth would have their balls on a string around his neck. Seth had chosen the Knife, and the Knife had chosen Peter, and Peter had then chosen Jeremy. He owed the younger man and this was the last chance they had to make a mark in the Sect and gain God's notice.
Seth had accepted them because they had once been garrison men before the Lord called them to a higher purpose. From then it had been an easy matter to obtain the papers needed to gain them access to the garrison in Jaipers. The Knife had lingered outside town while the two had joined the garrison and worked out the daily routine. They had fit right in and no one had questioned them. The garrison Captain in Jaipers had even welcomed them openly, saying he was glad to have more men in his service.
Now, out of habit born of years of experience, Peter looked over himself and Jeremy and could see that they continued to look exactly like typical military men. Peter was a couple of decades older than Jeremy and his hair was streaked with grey. He knew he could pass as Jeremy's father if need be. They both had close-cropped hair in the style of most military men; hair impeded vision and made helmets hot and sweaty. They kept their beards neatly trimmed and bathed when they could. The regimen of military life mimicked that of the Sect where cleanliness was next to godliness and they welcomed the routine. The hands they clenched in anticipation were well callused from sword use. They were fit with well-toned muscles that swung a sword with practiced ease. But, more importantly, they carried the look and swagger of military men without knowing they did it. Seth had approved of them for these skills and Dennis had tested them on the road to Jaipers and had been pleased. Today they still wore the leathers from the Jaipers garrison and looked every inch the simple military men they pretended to be.
But they weren't military men. They were members of the Sect. They carried secrets that would mean the death of anyone who discovered them. They carried out God's plan and were blessed by none other than the Archbishop of the Church of the New Order. Their belief gave them strength to do what they must against evil the world should know nothing about.
Peter rose up onto his haunches and then beckoned for Jeremy to follow. The men slowly emerged from their cover as the wagon carrying the young couple and the last of the couple's guards disappeared over a rise in the road. Around the bend and obscured by trees was the Target, still ambling down the road. He was the most sought after person the Church had ever wanted in their hands — and none other than the offspring of the demon woman who had birthed him. Peter started down the road — keeping to the side — and looked up and down the road. Jeremy fell in behind him about twenty paces. The road was clear.
It had been a trying journey over the past few weeks and it would have been miserable if not for the excitement that had them uniquely focused on their new mission. They should have picked the Target up outside Jaipers as soon as he had left the town but Jeremy had reasoned they needed to be sure it was him. Peter knew Jeremy spoke from youth and a fear of failure. Peter had ignored him and sent a missive off to his Eminence at once. This had angered Jeremy but Peter hadn't cared. He knew to whom he owed his allegiance. And he also understood why this had to be handled carefully and quietly. Too much could go wrong.
They had finally caught up to the Target only to lose him in the small town of Belger. He had simply disappeared in the market and they immediately suspected he was using his evil powers. They clenched their bloodstones to see through his magyc and searched the stalls and alleyways. But they failed to locate him and, in desperation, they circled the town before Peter reasoned he must have continued his journey down the road. He was correct and, now, they had only just found him again.
Their frustration and their relief had been extreme and, when they had finally found him strolling along the road, they had fallen to their knees in prayer to the Lord, for surely this had been His work. Soon they would act, and fulfil the long-delayed mission of the Sect and find glory with God, the Archbishop, and Seth. Peter knew from experience that God's justice was swift but, for the Target, it would be slow and painful. The thought lightened his step.
Peter knew the traffic along the road would become heavier soon and they would have to act. They couldn't afford to take the chance that a witness might see too much and speak to the wrong people. Little events lead to bigger ones and, before you know it, it all unravels, quoted Peter in his head from one of the Knife's favourite sayings. The simple truth was the Target must be recovered and brought to Seth alive. Failure to do so was unthinkable. To be successful they must remain covert. This was the Sect way. It had been beat into them through rigorous training. Peter was the hardened expert at this while Jeremy was a mere novice in experience with the demons. Each night Peter whispered details of past hunts to Jeremy and warned him of the demon tricks. He spoke of their ability to hide from human eyes in broad daylight and to manipulate the earth to do their bidding. Peter could see the fear in Jeremy's eyes but he could see the resolve there as well. He reminded Jeremy of the bloodstones they each carried and their ability to unmask the deception. Nightly they blessed each other, shared communion and prayed for righteous strength to fulfil their mission. There was strength in ritual.
Peter had participated in the demon hunts while Jeremy had only heard of them. Peter remembered and missed those days of fear and excitement. Dealing with the druids had been tricky and dangerous work and he had been uniquely talented at doing it. God
had gifted him with the skills he needed., skills he knew his friend Dennis Petard had in ample supply, for he had been the Sect's top enforcer and the favourite of Seth Farlow. The Knife had personally removed from the Realm dozens of the heathens. Now he was dead and buried in an unmarked grave in that shit-hole town of Jaipers, thought Peter and seethed at the insult his burial represented. These people should have been grovelling in thanks for the great work Dennis had done for them and for God.
Instead, Dennis had met his death out in the wild and in the hands of the demon they now followed. Thoughts of Dennis' ridiculous death often drove Peter to see red. His long-term associate, a highly respected and admired member of the Sect, had been taken down by a country Reeve and a fledgling demon. It was unthinkable. How could God have let this happen? All their plans so easily laid to waste. They had tracked the coin all the way to Jaipers and had watched for days as that man, Bill, had studied with the town Wordsmith, Daukyns. A quick look inside the home of the man had revealed this "Bill" was none other than the infamous traitor Bill Redgrave. On hearing this, Dennis had had a fit. He had declared God himself must be smiling down on them and led them to his doorstep. Their purpose could not have been clearer. Excited, Dennis had abandoned caution and moved too quickly to recover the coin.
Leaf and Branch (New Druids Series Vol 1 & 2) Page 36
