Truth Teller

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Truth Teller Page 6

by Kurt Chambers


  “Ha!” Blaine cried out. “Do they not teach you anything where you come from?”

  Her jaw tightened. “Shut up!” She glared at him.

  The dwarf’s mouth fell open. “You would not be alive today if Siren had not been defeated in the Great Wars, you foolish girl.” He narrowed his eyes and mumbled something inaudible.

  Elderfield stood bolt upright. “You had better watch your mouth, Entertainer, if you know what is good for you.”

  Blaine chuckled to himself as though Elder issued an empty threat.

  Middleton grasped his son by the arm and pulled him back to a sitting position. He turned back to Blaine. “I had a message from a member of your group. Do you know anything about this?”

  “I know nothing of such a message. The rest of my group is still in Thistlemoor. You can ride there in just over a day on that fine looking horse of yours.” He cast a longing eye on Swift, who grazed beside the stream.

  “You are welcome to join us if you are heading our way,” Middleton offered.

  Charlotte’s heart sank. What’s he saying that for? I’m not going in the wagon with him.

  The dwarf shook his head. “Me? No. I shall be heading as far away from this place as I can, and so would you if you had any sense.” He leaned forward, his expression darkening. “Hideous creatures lurk in the shadows. They know something is about to happen, and they are waiting. Folk talk of whole families going missing, taken in the night. Beware, leave this place while you still can.”

  There was a long silence. A cold chill ran down Charlotte’s spine. She hated scary stories. She clung to Elderfield’s arm.

  Blaine rose, slow and purposeful. He gazed at the three of them in turn. “I will catch up with the group next season. I am heading south to Rivertown.” A crooked smile appeared on his knurled features. “You never know, I might even bump into that beautiful wife of yours.”

  Middleton remained seated. “That is a kind offer. Maybe you can check on her for me.”

  The dwarf hesitated and his smirk vanished.

  “She will be pleased to see you, and to ask about that rack of hams that went missing the last time you were in town.”

  Blaine’s face dropped. “Alas, us poor folk always seem to get the blame for such misfortune. We have a bad reputation, but I assure you it is totally unjustified.” His frown deepened. “Why, I do not even like ham. In fact, I have never eaten it before in my life.”

  “How do you know that you don’t like it then?” Charlotte asked, making both Middleton and Elder erupt with laugher.

  “Such wit from a little girl.” He sneered, levelling a cruel glare. “And where do you come from, little girl? You are not like any folk I have seen before.”

  Elder took to his feet again, his face flushed. “She is a friend of mine. Do you have a problem with that?”

  The dwarf held his ground. With a sly grin, he gave a graceful bow. “I thank you for your kindness. Maybe we will meet again in fairer times.”

  “I hope not,” Charlotte mumbled under her breath.

  The three of them watched from the campfire as Blaine walked away. He stopped to scour the cliffs that rose against the skyline, then turned to face them. “You should leave this godforsaken place, and the sooner the better.” He turned his back to them and disappeared from sight. A few seconds later, galloping hooves echoed against the rocks and faded into the distance.

  Chapter Six

  Entertainers

  After packing up the camp, they travelled until the end of the day, making good progress along a well-worn mud track. The conversation centred around their encounter with the dubious dwarf, Blaine. Middleton tried to assure them that he was a harmless rogue, but Charlotte insisted he was the creepiest, most horrid little man she had ever met.

  They spent the night under a moonless sky on the edge of an overgrown meadow. They set out again at the crack of dawn after eating a quick, cold breakfast. Thistlemoor rolled into sight by early afternoon. Charlotte peered through the canopy, excited at the prospect of stopping in a real town. The wagon trundled between two wooden pillars erected at the front entrance. Grim, grey roof tiles spread throughout the whole complex, making the buildings appear uniform and dull. As they rumbled through the narrow, cobbled streets, nobody paid the slightest attention to their arrival. Dressed in shabby clothes, a few people walked the streets. They shuffled between the dirt-splashed houses with their cloaks drawn close and their heads down. Everyone appeared downcast.

  Charlotte wrinkled her nose at the heavy stench that lingered in the damp air. A sudden wash of disappointment forced her chin into her hands. This wasn’t what she had expected. She watched a dog drinking from a puddle in the road. The animal ran when an open-backed wagon rattled past. Looking around to find something of interest, she spotted a huge colourful tent poking out above the rooftops. It stood on the outskirts of Thistlemoor, and was a complete contrast to the rest of the dreary town. As they drew closer, she saw a gathering of wagons and carts of all different shapes and sizes surrounding the area, each with bright canvas canopies decorated with paintings and banners.

  “What is that?” She pointed and bounced with renewed enthusiasm, hoping they were heading in that direction.

  “That is the Entertainers,” Elder replied.

  “Are we allowed to go in there and have a look around?” she asked with an expectant grin.

  Middleton glanced down. “That is where we are heading, but we do not have the time to stay any longer than we have to.”

  “That’s a shame.” How did she know he was going to say that?

  He must have noticed her disappointment and ruffled her hair. “I am sorry, Charlotte, but we have more important matters to attend to first. If we are going to find Goffer, these are the best people to ask, but this is not a social visit.”

  She gave a nod, drooping her shoulders, but kept her opinions to herself.

  They rode through Thistlemoor towards the colourful scene ahead. When they reached the end of the town, the cobbled streets gave way to a single muddy track that led them up the hill and into a wide-open meadow. They wove through a collection of wagons and stalls, coming to a halt close to the entrance of the main tent.

  Charlotte jumped through the back canopy, ready to explore, followed closely by Elder.

  “Wait, you two!” Middleton called out, rushing to join them. “You will have to stay here with the wagon until I get back, or we will have no supplies left by the time we return.” He held up his hand to silence her protest. “Listen, Charlotte. You need to be careful around here. Not everyone can be trusted. You have to be on your guard at all times.”

  “We’ve been stuck in this thing for ages. My legs are caning.”

  Elder put his arm around her shoulder. “Come on, grumpy. We will find those biscuits you asked about earlier. That should take your mind off things for a while.”

  The mention of food reminded her of how long it had been since they last ate. She forced a smile and agreed without a fuss.

  “Make sure you leave something for me. I will return soon.” Middleton patted her back then disappeared into the crowd.

  Elder found the biscuits, and they sat munching them at the back of the wagon, watching the many dwarfs and elves going about their business. All the strange clothes and funny hats everyone wore fascinated Charlotte. She pointed and giggled in between complaining about the smell coming from the livestock. Less than an hour passed before she started getting fidgety and irritable again. “How long is Middleton going to be?”

  Elder offered her a grin. “As long as it takes.”

  She frowned. “Let’s do something. I’m bored.” She picked up his sword and examined it. “I’ll give you a fight.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “Very well. I shall teach you the art of the sword.”

  Her face lit up at once. “Come on, then!”

  He armed her with a shield and a short sword, and gave her instructions to attack him with everyth
ing she had.

  “I don’t want to kill you.” Her brows creased with worry.

  He shook his head. “That is very unlikely.” He smirked and beckoned her towards him.

  She grasped the heavy shield tight, narrowing her eyes. “You asked for it.” Holding the short sword in front of her, she rushed him.

  With great skill, he knocked the sword from her hand with a single blow, but with the weight of the shield, she couldn’t stop her momentum and kept running until she collided with him. Elder went down with a groan and Charlotte landed on top of him. Scrambling back to her feet, she jumped up and down, waving her arms in the air and shouting, “I win! I win! You’re dead and I’m the winner—yeah!”

  She spotted Middleton walking back through the crowd. He was talking to a dwarf dressed in a red and white striped tunic with matching trousers. “Oh, no. Not another one of those horrible dwarves,” she groaned, but no reply came from Elder, who was still rolling around on the ground, clutching his stomach.

  When Middleton reached them, he stopped to look at Charlotte holding a shield then glanced down at Elderfield. “I leave you two alone for five minutes and you end up fighting.” He gave a smirk.

  Elder sat up with a scowl. He directed his discontent at Charlotte. “That was unfair,” he protested. “I did not say to run at me like a person possessed and hit me in the stomach with a shield.”

  She smiled from ear to ear, throwing her arms in the air in a victory stance. “Loser!”

  He stood up and brushed himself down, but made no further comment.

  “This is Gile,” Middleton introduced, standing next to the colourful character. “He is the messenger we have been searching for.”

  The dwarf gave a quick bow of his head.

  “Elder, make a fire and cook up some supper. We have much to discuss.”

  He picked up the scattered weapons and set about his task without question. Within minutes, the small group huddled close around the cooking pot, their backs to the crowds.

  Charlotte was nervous in the company of the dwarf after her earlier encounter with Blaine. She kept her head down, biting her fingernails, watching him from the corner of her eye.

  Middleton was the first to speak. “So, my old friend. You have a message for me.”

  “Forgive me, Middleton. I was unable to deliver that message. My group moved on before I had a chance to see you, and I dare not tell anyone else. I was planning on making a return trip to Rivertown before we moved further north.”

  “No harm done, my friend. I am here now.”

  Gile drew closer and spoke in a whisper. “The message is from someone who goes by the name of Goffer.”

  Charlotte gasped with a rush of exhilaration and clasped her cheeks in her hands. At last.

  “He said you would know him,” the dwarf continued.

  “Yes, I know him all right. Carry on.”

  “He told me to tell you he needs to speak with you urgently. He said there would be a stranger coming, one who would be defenceless and lost.” Gile shuffled closer. “He also said you must take great care, as others may follow.”

  “Others? Did he mention who these others would be?” His brows folded with concern.

  Gile shrugged, casting wary looks around the area.

  “This Goffer, why did he not come and speak with me himself?”

  “I cannot say, but I do know he was in a rush to get back to the Montainian Stronghold,” said Gile. “He gave me the impression he feared for his own safety.”

  Middleton stared out into the distance. “How much truth is there in the stories I hear? We encountered a member of your group on our travels. He claims armies are invading from the east.”

  Gile’s face looked grave in the flickering firelight. “I fear the rumours are true. Have you not noticed how quiet it is around here? Folk are leaving in droves.”

  Charlotte could contain her excitement no longer. “Now we know where Goffer is, yeah? Now we can find him, I can go home? That’s good news, isn’t it?”

  The dwarf gave her a faint smile. “You will have to travel through the Montainian Forest. The Stronghold lies a few days ride west of here.”

  She grinned and rubbed her hands together.

  Middleton put his arm around Gile’s shoulder. “Thank you for this. Even though it is not all good news, you have helped me more than you know.” He offered him a silver coin. “For your troubles, my old friend. You did well to keep this information between us.”

  Gile shook his head and waved both hands out in front of him. “I shall not take your money,” he insisted. “Besides, I was rewarded handsomely by Goffer. I do not feel I have earned it. Keep it. You may need it. I have a feeling you have a difficult journey ahead, not one that I would care to take on willingly.”

  Middleton patted him on his shoulder and smiled. “You are a credit to your group and to your people. I will not forget what you have done for me.”

  The mood lightened over a good meal. Charlotte watched in wonder as the dwarf showed her some of his magic. She clapped and laughed when he made Elderfield’s sword disappear before their very eyes, then retrieved it again from the inside of Middleton’s cloak. He juggled with fire and made a coin appear from Charlotte’s ear. The dwarf placed it in her palm and closed her fingers around it.

  “Take it, sweet flower. For luck.” He gave her a warm smile. “I had better get back before someone misses me,” he said, giving them a deep bow. “Be careful, Middleton, and be sure to keep your wits about you.” He hurried away without looking back.

  Charlotte looked at the copper coin. It had strange writing around the edge and a picture of a dwarf Entertainer pressed into the centre. She flipped it over to find a mirror image on the other side. Maybe not all dwarves were horrible, she pondered, slipping the coin into her pocket. She helped the two men pack the wagon before they set off again across the bleak moors towards the Montainian Forest.

  * * * *

  Dagan lurked in the shade of a large boulder. From here, he had a clear view of the field where the Entertainers gathered. His keen eyes watched the dwarf make his way to his tent. He slipped from his position and mingled with the twilight shadows. The light from a lantern exposed the dwarf’s outline slumped on his bed. He stood close enough to hear a sigh.

  He lifted the front of the tent flap and bent low to peer inside.

  “Go away!” Gile yelled out. “This is a private tent.”

  Dagan reached for a weapon.

  “Did you not hear me? I said go away!” Gile’s tone grew in anger.

  The druid stepped inside and closed the flap. Before Gile had chance to protest, Dagan smothered his mouth with a large, powerful hand and held a dagger point to his throat. The helpless dwarf ceased his struggle.

  “What did you say to the farmer?” he growled, releasing his grip on Gile’s face, but holding the dagger point against his windpipe.

  “We were just passing the time of day, sir,” he replied in a meek voice.

  Dagan narrowed his eyes and resumed his grip with more ferocity. “I shall ask you one more time,” he hissed, his patience beginning to fail. “What did you say to the farmer?” He released his painful grip in order to allow Gile to talk.

  The dwarf gasped for breath. “He came here to ask me if I knew anything about a message.” He stumbled over his words. “I did not know what he was talking about, I swear! Someone had a message for him, but I could not help. I knew nothing of any such message.”

  “Where is he going now, and why?”

  “He spoke about rumours of troll armies. I asked him what troubled him, but he would not say. I could not make sense of anything he said.” Gile trembled, and his voice was nothing more than a mere whimper. “I told him I would ask around, but he said he did not have the time and thanked me anyway. That was all he said, I swear to it, sir. Please do not harm me, I beg of you.”

  Dagan stepped from the tent and took a moment to glance around, then disappeared back into the sha
dows from where he came. He mounted his horse and rode through the moors to the west, knowing it would be well into the next day before anyone discovered Gile’s lifeless body crudely hidden beneath his bed.

  Chapter Seven

  Dark Creatures

  Middleton and Elder took turns driving while Charlotte sat watching from her pile of sacks in the rear of the wagon. The first night remained clear as they travelled across the bleak moorland. She tried to sleep in the early hours, but the uneven track was littered with boulders that bumped and jolted her around like a rag doll. The constant movement made her stomach churn.

  They journeyed for three days through miles and miles of nothing but marsh and fern. The green haze clung to the landscape for as far as the eye could see. Grey clouds rolled in from the north, cooling the air. A dark line appeared on the horizon as the Great Montainian Forest loomed into view.

  It took another hour for the trail to lead them to the endless expanse of trees. They disappeared into the forest beneath a canopy of leaves. The light faded in an instant, and a cold wind howled through the treetops, groaning like the sound of lost souls. The skeletal remains of fallen trees lay strewn across the forest floor, moss covered and rotten. Vines hung between the living vegetation, and ivy crept skyward, choking everything it came into contact with.

  Middleton summoned Charlotte and Elder to join him at the front of the wagon. “We must stay together at all times and never stray from the road,” he explained, examining their faces. “This forest is not a friendly place.”

  Charlotte’s joy at the prospect of finding Goffer had dwindled over the last few days. She wondered how much more she could take of the constant rock of the wagon, the cold nights and everything else. “How much further have we got to go?” she snipped.

  “This will be the last leg of our journey. We are heading to an ancient stronghold, a place I have heard of many times, but have never seen for myself.”

  She scrunched up her face. “How do you know it’s even there, then?”

  He offered a reassuring smile. “Do not fret, youngster. The fortress is definitely there. The Stronghold saved our people from Siren’s forces during the Great Wars.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m not bothered, so long as we can find this bloke and I can go home. I’m sick of this place. It feels like I’m never going to get out of here.” She slumped back into the wagon, resting her head in her hands. Her lower lip stuck out in a pout.

 

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