As the earth beneath his feet bucked and surged, Brugo was thrown to the ground. The rolling thunder of an explosion hit him a moment later and he threw his arms over his head, huddling down between the trees until it passed.
He’d been walking for days, careful not to cross paths with any man or beast since leaving behind the little township and the old drunk.
It had been a lonely road, but Mabel was good company. She didn’t complain and several times she alerted him to people before he heard them himself. In that way, they made a good team, strange as it may have seemed.
When the deafening sound passed and the last of the pine nuts had fallen from the trees, Brugo lifted his head and looked around. He’d been walking through the forest, following the path from the shadows. He hadn’t the faintest idea what might have caused the writhing beneath his feet or the roaring sound, but when he crept toward the edge of the tree line, he saw two things.
First, he saw a tower of black smoke rising from a place further down the road. Whatever it had been, it was now little more than a crater in the ground. Beyond that, he saw the outline of a large town etched against the clear blue sky.
And then his eyes caught a flash of silver and he slunk back into the shadows as a battalion of soldiers formed up on the pathway, marching toward the crater. Ahead of them, two soldiers rode black destriers, shouting orders as they drove their horses forward toward the billowing blackness.
While he watched, Mabel emerged from his apron pocket, charting a path up his arm and onto his shoulder where she could get a better view.
“What do we do now?” Brugo asked, thoughtlessly offering her a bit of fruit to nibble on from his pack.
The soldiers reached the scorched place in the earth and formed a loose circle, but as Brugo watched, he noticed that several of them seemed unwilling to get any closer. Even as the mounted officers issued commands, the men on foot looked doubtfully at the blackened pit and kept their distance.
Brugo dropped back into the woods, charting a path closer to the gathered soldiers, curiosity getting the better of him.
“Get in there, men! If those wicked mages were hiding something, we have to find it before the public starts looking. It won’t be long before they start meddling with our investigation, and then we’ll have to spend all our time keeping them out.”
“But, sir—“ one man began, concern wrinkling his brow beneath his helm.
The officer reined up his horse, peering down at the soldier with derision. “Yes, soldier?”
“Well, the mages… what if it’s dangerous?”
The officer glowered at him in response. “You’re a soldier. You chose a dangerous line of work. If you can’t handle it, you can hang up your sword and donate that armor of yours to someone who can really use it. Then we can find you some other kind of work, perhaps emptying the cesspits.”He wheeled, looking at the others. “Anyone else?”
The other men jumped to attention and rushed forward while the officer smirked with self-satisfaction.
Brugo sat back, thinking. Mages? In this town? There hadn’t been mages in Sariza for ages, since the War of the Seven Citadels at least. If Andrysfal had mages, what other secrets might they have?
He shook himself. It didn’t matter, because he was no longer a citizen of Sariza. Not since he’d been chased out by the king’s men. Now, he was a lost man, a man without a home, and he had to make it to Yaal.
Pulling out a map, he tried to make sense of where he was. As far as he could tell, he was outside of Torg Uyen. It looked to be a medium sized town from the drawings. He tucked the map away and resumed watching.
After some time, it seemed that the soldiers relaxed and the officers moved closer to direct the search. It occurred to Brugo that this was his chance to enter the town and restock his supplies before he made the final leg of his journey to Yaal. If all the guards and soldiers were out here, they couldn’t be in the town. He could move freely without worrying about being recognized for the first time in weeks.
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Getting to his feet, he moved quietly through the forest until he was well past the burning pit and then he emerged onto the path, heading straight toward the town gates.
“Halt!” A cry came from inside the gate, and Brugo froze.
The gates stood open before him, but a small man in a guard’s uniform blocked the path, hand on his sword. But when the guard’s eyes fell to Brugo’s axe, his mouth dropped open in awe and he stared, dumbfounded.
“Um? May I pass?” Brugo asked, unsure of what to say to the man.
In truth, he knew that he was taking a big risk. The guard would speak of this to someone, about the giant man with the axe that appeared at the gates. If Brugo wanted to restock, he had to do so quickly, and then he needed to get out of town.
“What is your business here?” The guard managed after some time.
“Supplies,” Brugo answered quickly. “The soldiers are in need of water to put out the fire. And food. They’re going to be out there a while. I was sent to gather what I could and bring it back to them.”
The guard nodded, seeming to think that all of this made good sense.
“Of course! Tarik! Quincey!” He shouted over his shoulder.
Two more guards appeared from between buildings, hurrying over to offer a sloppy salute to the gate guard.
“This man needs supplies for the search. Captain Orinaard sent him. Set him up with two carts, one for barrels of water and one for food. Be prepared to refill those water barrels. Go!”
As the two guards hurried off to do as they were told, the man looked back at Brugo, grinning proudly. “Anything else?”
“How long will it take them to gather supplies?” Brugo asked.
“Won’t be long. Anything for Captain Orinaard!”
“I was hoping to grab a tankard of ale for myself while I wait,” Brugo admitted, looking past the guard at the inn.
“Ah, yes, a nice ale sounds wonderful. Unfortunately, I have to inform you that all of Torg Uyen is shuttered at the moment. What with the explosion and all that, the people are nervous about what might be in the air. You never know with mages. It could be nothing, but they don’t want to take any chances, you see?”
Brugo nodded, sighing with disappointment. “Aye, I suppose it can wait then. What’s this talk of mages? Who would dare attack a mage tower?”
The guard shrugged. “Hard to say. Nobody much likes the mages, but I can’t think of anyone who would dare to strike at them directly. Not even the Sarizian empire would dare start a war with us as long as we had mages, and war’s about the only thing they care for.”
Brugo bristled at the man’s words, but he forced himself to relax. He was not wrong. Sariza was known for its wars, and the two empires had long been in a standoff.
“If it wasn’t an attack, then what could have caused it?” Brugo mused, looking back at the column of soot rising into the air, blocking out the sun with a hazy brown smudge.
“Who knows? Maybe the old Mage Consul finally lost his wits and blew himself to bits? It wouldn’t surprise me one bit,” the guard chuckled to himself.
Brugo tried to match the man’s chuckle but found himself frowning at the dark mass in the sky instead. As he scanned the landscape, he caught a movement off to one side. A flash of colorful skirts and a mass of dark curls disappearing behind a boulder.
Just then, the guard’s men reappeared, leading two mules with carts. As promised, one cart was loaded with barrels of water. The other cart was piled with an amalgam of food that must have been scavenged from the abandoned marketplace.
Brugo glanced back in the direction of the boulder, but turned his attention to the mules.
“Thank you, men. The Captain will be grateful for your efforts.” He reached for the ropes leading the mules.
“Are you sure you don’t want us to come along? It won’t be any trouble.”
Brugo shook his head vigorously. “No, no. Your job is here. Keep the townspeople safe, and don’t let anyone pass until the Captain returns.”
The two men saluted Brugo swiftly and then returned to their posts.
“Make sure to put in a good word for me,” the guard called after Brugo as he turned to walk away.
Behind him, the gates were pushed shut and he heard a heavy bar fall into place on the other side. He sighed with relief, looking at the two mules. He led them a little way down the path, over a tiny rise until he was out of sight of the gate before he stopped again.
Mabel squeaked and he brought her over to the cart full of food, watching with a smirk as she scampered down into a sack of potatoes and squealed with delight.
“Eat up, little one. We can’t take it all.”
In fact, Brugo now faced a different problem. The road to Yaal was on the far side of Torg Uyen, but he would have to leave the path to go around. The best he could do was stuff as much food as he could into his pouch and refill his canteen from the barrels. Then, he’d slap the mules and send them down the trail. With any luck, this Captain Ordinaard would see the beasts and bring them back to town, returning them to their rightful owners. Brugo couldn’t afford to concern himself with that though.
As Mabel treated herself to a feast, he untied his pack and began selecting fruits and dried meats to replenish his supplies.
He was nearly finished when he heard a whistle and looked up. There, behind the boulder, stood a young woman, watching him curiously.
Looking at the food piled in the cart, he grabbed an apple and rubbed it on his apron, inspecting it for worms. Satisfied, he moved away from the cart until he was close enough to roll the apple over to the boulder.
He watched it as it came to a stop and then a pale arm reached out and snatched it up in a heartbeat.
“You can come out. I’m not going to hurt you.”
The woman’s face appeared again, her hair bouncing lightly with every step. She kept her hands hidden in her robe and eyed him suspiciously.
“You’re not from here.”