“Son,” Chad said as the older of the two boys came to him for his turn, “I don’t think this is necessary.”
The lad looked up at him. “Master Tinton doesn’t like mud tracked through his shop,” the lad explained. When Chad drew his boot away from the child’s grasp, the child looked up at him again. “Tracking mud inside is very bad,” the child said. He again started reaching for Chad’s boot.
Riyan, who had just had his boots wiped clean, said, “Just let him do it Chad.”
“Yes, Chad,” Seth said with a grin. “We don’t want to cause any trouble.”
Chad gazed down at the lad waiting to wipe his boots, then relented. “This feels odd,” he said as the child raised his boot off the floor and commenced cleaning it.
“Different places, different customs,” offered Kevik. He was grinning at Chad’s expense when he felt his staff being grabbed by the other child. The grin vanished from his face in a flash and he snatched his staff out of the child’s hand. “What are you doing?” he demanded. He definitely didn’t like anyone touching his staff but himself.
The child pointed to the lower end and said, “Master Tinton doesn’t like mud tracked through his shop.”
That’s when Kevik looked down and saw the lower end had a small amount of mud attached to it.
“Come on Kevik,” Chad said. “We don’t want to cause any trouble.”
“Yes Kevik,” Seth grinned. “Different places, different customs.”
Kevik glanced at him then down to the child who was waiting patiently. “Can I clean it myself?” he asked. The child offered him his rag and he soon had the lower end of the staff clean. Once everyone was suitably clean, the boys returned to their stations adjacent to the doorway.
“You have to admit,” Soth said as they moved further into the shop, “he keeps a clean place.” And in fact, it was one of the cleanest shops any of them had ever been in.
From the inside, this place looked even larger than it had from the outside, as if that was even possible. Shelves lined the floor and walls, there was even a stairway leading up to a second floor.
“There couldn’t be this much up there too can there?” Chad asked.
“Maybe,” replied Riyan.
The store had maybe two dozen customers moving along the free standing shelves lining the floor. Riyan stopped one of the ladies and asked, “Do you know where I can find Mr. Tinton?”
The lady glanced around the shop for a moment before saying, “You might try upstairs.”
“Thank you,” he said then headed for the stairway up.
They walked past shelves containing a variety of items ranging from tunics to rope, and even one shelf with a display of deadly looking knives. This place held more merchandize than a dozen chandler shops.
Upstairs they found more of the same. It didn’t look like the merchandise was laid out to any sort of plan either. For instance, in one spot as they began moving through the second floor in search of Tinton, they found one freestanding shelf containing nothing but blankets. On its right was another holding a variety of candles, while on its left were dozens of brass cooking pots. All in all, a very odd place.
They wended their way through the second floor and still didn’t find Tinton. When they saw an older boy that looked like he worked there, they flagged him down. “Excuse me,” Riyan said as the boy came to them, “could you tell me where I could find Mr. Tinton?”
“I’m Tinton,” the boy said.
“You?” asked Seth incredulously.
“Yes,” the lad said, turning to him. “Is there a problem with that?”
“Look sonny,” Seth said. “We don’t have time for games. We need to find him.”
A crooked smile crossed the lad’s face. “Well, when you find him, let me know.” With that he turned about and walked off.
“Someone should teach that kid some manners,” Seth said as the boy disappeared around one of the free standing shelves. The way the boy had said what he did, and then turned his back on him and walked away, grated on Seth’s nerves.
“We don’t have time to ‘teach him some manners’ right now,” Bart said. Looking around, he saw a man walking among the shelves not far away. The man was dressed well and had an air of ownership about him. “That must be him,” Bart said to the others. Moving forward, he worked his way through the shelves toward the man.
“Excuse me sir,” he said. “Would you be Mr. Tinton?”
The man stopped and turned toward him. “Me?” he asked with a laugh. “Hardly.”
“Could you point him out to me?” Bart asked. “We need to speak with him.”
“Assuredly,” the man replied. He glanced around for a moment then pointed down to their right. “There he is.”
Bart looked to where he was pointing and saw the older boy that they had talked with earlier. “The boy?” he asked incredulously.
“Boy?” the man retorted. “He’s over four hundred years old.” When Bart still looked confused, he said, “He’s a gnome.”
“A gnome?” he asked. The man nodded in return.
Then he took a better look at the lad, uh gnome, and could begin to see characteristics one would associate with such creatures. The slight upturned point to the ears, the youthful appearance that the eyes contradicted if you but looked.
None of them had ever seen a gnome before. Oh they had heard tales of them their whole lives, but who would have thought to find one in such a place. They were supposed to be cutesy little creatures that lived in the forest.
The boy, or rather Mr. Tinton, took notice of them looking his way. His gaze lingered in their direction for a second before he turned and began making his way through the store.
“Damn,” cursed Riyan under his breath as he hurried to catch him. Riyan wended his way through the freestanding shelves as he worked to catch Mr. Tinton. Behind him, the others hurried after.
“Mr. Tinton!” Riyan hailed when he had caught up to him.
The gnome turned around with a crooked grin. “Are you ready for games now?” he asked.
“No,” replied Riyan as he came to a stop before him. “We’re sorry we didn’t believe you before.”
“I’ve discovered a certain amount of patience is required when dealing with your kind,” he replied. Mr. Tinton glanced over his shoulder to Seth who had the good grace to blush.
“Yes,” Riyan said, “I’m sure you do. But we were wondering if you could help us with something?”
“And what would that be?” he asked.
Riyan removed his pack and proceeded to retrieve the wine bottle with the crest. Once he had it in hand he held it up for Mr. Tinton to see. “We are interested in finding out where the winery is that produced this,” he explained.
Taking the bottle from him, the gnome gave it a once over then turned his gaze to Riyan. “Where did you get this?” he asked.
“An acquaintance of ours who is a trader,” he replied.
Mr. Tinton gave the bottle another brief examination and then handed it back. “I haven’t seen many of those,” he told them. “One usually doesn’t find them this far north.”
“North?” asked Bart. “As in north of the Moran Tribes?”
“Something like that,” he said. “The crest on the bottle is that of the Orack Tribe. More specifically, their ruling family.”
“Would that be the family of The River Man?” questioned Chad.
Mr. Tinton turned his attention to Chad and nodded. “I’ve heard they were thinking about opening trade with the north. But what with all the recent hostilities, such now seems unlikely.” Turning back to Riyan, he said, “If by chance you do manage to procure quantities of guerloch, send some my way. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“ Guerloch?” asked Bart.
“That’s what was in the bottle,” he explained. “A very special brew that is highly prized.”
“It isn’t wine?” asked Kevik.
“In a way, I suppose you could call it such,” Mr.
Tinton said. “I’m not sure what goes into the making of it, but I’ve never known it to have any sort of harmful effect.”
With the wine bottle securely back in his pack, Riyan asked, “You wouldn’t know where they make it do you?”
“No, sorry,” he replied. “That’s a closely guarded secret of the Orack.” Just then one of the gnomes whom they earlier mistook for children came to him and whispered into his ear. Nodding to the gnome, Mr. Tinton turned back to Riyan and said, “I’m sorry, but I must see to something. If you’ll excuse me.” Then without further ado, he turned and followed the other gnome as it quickly departed.
Riyan stood quietly in thought as he watched Mr. Tinton walked away. Definitely not what he had thought a gnome to be. Turning to Chad, he could see the same thoughts were running through his mind.
“So now we know,” Chyfe stated.
Riyan turned toward him with a questioning look.
“The River Man,” Chyfe clarified. “He is involved in some way with the key.”
“Maybe,” Riyan replied.
“We don’t know that for sure,” Soth reasoned. “Just because the crest of his family bears some resemblance to the coat of arms we are looking for doesn’t necessarily mean there’s a connection between the two.”
“Don’t forget, Durik was interested in him for some reason,” Chad explained.
“That’s true,” agreed Riyan.
“This does mean one thing though,” Bart announced.
“What?” asked Soth.
“We’re going to have to pay a visit to the Orack Tribe to find out how the River Man is connected in all this,” he explained. And with that they turned about and headed back to the inn. Outside, snowflakes were beginning to lightly fall.
“Great,” groaned Riyan. By the following morning, there was another foot of snow on the ground with no sign of stopping.
Chapter Four
Off and on for a week the snow fell. Then just when blue sky peeked through and they thought the weather was about to improve, it disappeared and the snow fell once more. On the eighth day since their arrival in Hunter’s Reach, they finally awoke to sky devoid of snow. Clouds still held a presence, but the storm was over.
Snow covered everything. From Riyan’s window, the world looked to be covered in a blanket of white. A few people were out and about, struggling through snow that came to their hips. “Man,” he breathed. Glancing over to Bart who stood next to him, he asked, “Can we make it?”
“Possibly,” replied Bart. “One trader I talked with yesterday said there was a roadside inn several miles to the south. If we can make it before nightfall we should be alright.”
“But if we don’t,” added Chyfe, “we’ll freeze.” When Riyan glanced at him, he gave him a concerned look.
Bart nodded in agreement. “Most likely.” Glancing to the sky, he again took in the way the clouds were continuing to disperse. Off to the west it looked like another system may be coming their way. If it was, it wouldn’t arrive for a day or so.
“How about after the roadside inn?” Riyan asked. “Is there anything further south?”
“Not until the crossroads in the hills north of the Tinderlock Mountains,” he explained. “The trader said there were a couple inns and a smithy there.” He turned to Riyan and said, “It’s only half a day past the roadside inn.”
Riyan nodded. “What do you think?” he asked.
Bart glanced again to the sky. “I think we should try it,” he replied. “The weather looks as if it’s going to hold.” Turning back to Riyan, he added, “We won’t be assured of good weather for another month or two at least.”
“I don’t fancy remaining here in Hunter’s Reach until spring,” Chyfe stated. “Let’s go.”
“Alright,” agreed Riyan. “Let’s get the others and be on our way.” As Bart and Chyfe went to gather their equipment and head down to the stables, Riyan again looked to the sky. “Just hold,” he said under his breath. Then he turned and made ready to leave.
When Bart informed Soth they were heading out, he said, “Thank goodness. If I had to stay around here and look at Seth’s ugly face another day, I think I would have lost it.”
“But,” Bart said, “you’re twins.” Then he saw Soth break into a grin at his expense.
Seth chuckled as he slapped Bart on the back. “I’m the handsome one don’t you know,” he asserted.
Bart glanced from one to the other, unable to tell them apart other than Soth tended to cut his hair shorter. “We’ve been cooped up here too long,” he mumbled as he slung his pack across his shoulders. Heading out down to the stables, he left the twins arguing about who was better looking. “Like it mattered,” he said out loud to himself, shaking his head.
“Like what mattered?” asked Chyfe. He and Chad joined Bart in the hallway outside their rooms. Bart nodded his head back to the room containing the twins.
Chad grinned. “Oh,” he said. Most of the time they had been cooped up during the last week, Seth and Soth had been bickering about one thing or another almost without stop. Fortunately, it had all been good natured sibling rivalry.
Outside, they found the courtyard buried in drifts of snow, some almost as deep as they were tall. Several trails were already cut through the snow from where others had already been out and about this morning. One such path led to the stable and they were soon inside saddling their horses.
Riyan and Kevik joined them a few minutes later followed by the twins. In short order, they were mounted and making their way out into the snow covered courtyard. The horses had some difficulty negotiating their way through the accumulated drifts, it was clear they didn’t care for the icy coldness of the snow. The streets through town were a bit better as others had already broken paths along which they could follow.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Riyan suddenly exclaimed.
“What?” asked Bart as he turned to his friend.
“Look over there,” Riyan said, pointing down a side street.
Bart and the others turned to find a ten wagon caravan slowly making its way along through the snow. “What idiot would take wagons out in weather like this?” Chyfe asked.
“I suppose there’s a profit to be made,” commented Chad, “especially when most of the other caravans are waiting for the spring thaw to resume trading.”
Riyan just shook his head. If it wasn’t for the fact that time was running out to win Freya, he wouldn’t have braved such weather himself. But come summer, her wedding with Rupert will take place unless they find the King’s Horde and he can change her father’s mind.
Bart and Chyfe took the lead as they left the outskirts of Hunter’s Reach. A mile out of town, they came to where a wagon’s width of snow had been removed from the center of the road and placed to the right.
“How did this come about?” Chyfe asked. He could see where a lane of cleared snow came from their right, turned onto the road, then continued ahead of them into the distance. It was of uniform width throughout its entire length.
“I don’t know,” replied Bart. “But it will make for faster going.”
They moved into the cleared swath and continued down the road. A few miles further ahead, the mystery as to how the cleared swath had come to be was solved. Coming their way was a man riding a sled being pulled by a four horse team. The sled wasn’t a normal, run of the mill sled. Instead, it had a slanted front that angled to the right with iron reinforcing the leading edge. As the sled moved along, it scraped snow from the road and pushed it to the side.
Bart was greatly impressed by the ingenuity that had gone into the sled. When he came closer, he saw that the back of the sled held four large logs. Coming to a stop, he greeted the driver of the sled.
“Good day to you,” he said as the driver came abreast of him.
“Whoa there,” the driver said to his team as he pulled back gently on the reins. Coming to a stop, he glanced to Bart and then the others. “Good day to you as well,” he replied.
<
br /> Bart gazed at the sled and said, “That’s an odd sled you have there.”
The driver grinned. “There isn’t another like it in the world,” he said. “Made it myself.”
“Why?” asked Chad. “I’ll agree that it clears the snow away well enough, but why go to the bother? Won’t it melt soon enough?”
“Sometimes it does,” answered the driver. “Sometimes it doesn’t.” He gestured behind him then continued speaking. “I have pastures down there where I raise cattle. At times I need to bring them closer to home, especially in weather like this. I found that if I make a path with my sled, the cattle follow it without hesitation.”
Bart nodded. “That makes sense,” he said.
“I’m surprised the town doesn’t hire you to clear their streets for them,” Soth said. “From the amount of cursing we heard from those out in it, they’d probably pay you pretty good to get rid of it for them.” Seth nodded agreement.
The driver’s eyes lit up as if he hadn’t even considered the possibility. “I might just do that good sir,” he said.
Bart gestured to the logs sitting in the back of the sled. “What are those for?” he asked.
Glancing back to the logs, the driver grinned. “When I first constructed my sled, it didn’t work all that great. Instead of pushing the snow to the side, my sled would be the one being pushed. After I added the logs to give it more weight, the snow no longer pushed my sled aside. Four logs are the best number. Any less and my sled begins skewing to the side, and any more will quickly tire my horses.”
“You are truly an ingenious man,” Riyan said. Then he gave the driver a nod. “Good luck with your cattle.”
“Thank you sir,” the driver replied. “You have a good day too.” With a flick of the reins and a ‘yah!’, the sled began moving out once again.
“Never seen anything like it,” Chyfe said as the sled pulled away. They watched the sled as it scraped the snow off the road and pushed it aside, widening the cleared swath another two feet.
“Come on,” Bart finally said. “We still have a ways to go.” Getting his horse moving, he continued down the road.
Quest's end bk-3 Page 5
