A week had gone since their fated departure from Rosetown, but the roads were still infested with soldiers and refugees. News regarding the ransacking of House Polifio's treasury had spread like wildfire throughout the continent. The days that followed were nothing short of chaotic. Xhiamas and company headed north to find one of the hideouts that stored the goods. The distance was not as daunting at first, but because of the unexpected retreat to the western exit of Rosetown, the group now found themselves on the western outskirts of Lord Mikhael's lands. Traveling by road was no easy task as well, for every town and hold under the Polifios' rule was on high alert for runaways and non-locals. The group was forced to take the scenic route instead and traverse through the forest that surrounded the nearby mountain while following the river that led north.
The evening was drawing in, and the group unanimously decided to take a rest. Wyatt and Xhiamas prepared their sleeping quarters while Cassian and Hawk agreed to set out in search of food as they were running out of supplies. "Where did I put that thing again?" Cassian searched for his dagger. "I'll set up a fire. Don't wander off too far if you cannot find a fresh game," Xhiamas advised the two. "We still have some berries left from yesterday."
"Duly noted," Hawk replied. "We'll be back." They then set off deeper into the forest, leaving the smithy's son and the mysterious man to themselves. "We've been traveling for days now," Wyatt spoke to Xhiamas as he spread out a rugged, simple cloth to sleep on. "How much farther until we've reached this hideout?"
"Judging by the pace we have been traveling at, we will arrive in a few days at noon if we can hire a ferry to transport us to Gillsberry," Xhiamas replied as the embers of the campfire lit up the surrounding area. The Arrow looked at Wyatt who was almost done setting up camp and noticed that something had changed in the boy. The boy has steeled himself in such a short amount of time, Xhiamas thought to himself. "How are you holding up now that your father is no longer with us, Wyatt?"
Wyatt thought about how to address the question. He turned to the war hammer his father gave him; the parting gift that was given before being consumed by a mass of nature. He felt angry, but oddly enough, was calm about the situation. "I'm doing fine," Wyatt replied as he walked toward the weapon and knelt, his eyes full of questions. "I don't know why, but despite everything that's happened, I feel both angry and at peace, if that makes any sense."
"Conflict brews inside you, eh?" Xhiamas replied. "It was noticeable the moment you stepped outside your house."
The boy looked at the scout, confused. "I could see it in your eyes, Shaa'le," the scout stood up and approached him. "The eyes are the windows to one's soul. They did not lie to me on that day, and they do not lie to me right now," Xhiamas continued as he touched the war hammer. "Such fine craftsmanship, but I've been through enough battles to know that this one was no mere gift--this one has a story. Whether its tale was designed to be given to you by the time comes, or was it given out of a father's concern for his pride and joy, I cannot say for certain. However, I do know that the story has now been passed on to you. So, make the best out of it and continue to fill the blank pages." The scout then headed back and warmed himself near the campfire, letting out a breath as he sat down.
Wyatt carried his weapon towards the campfire and set it down beside him as he meditated on his thoughts. Xhiamas gave the boy the time to himself, and a silence fell on the camp as the sun was setting on the horizon.
The crackles of the campfire along with the sounds of nocturnal animals surrounded them. Nighttime had come. Wyatt stared at the emerald gemstone embedded in the hammer. He questioned its whereabouts, its significance and so much more. The sound of rustling came from their flank, and Wyatt prepared himself despite not having any experience in fighting using a weapon of this caliber.
"Calm down--it is only them," Xhiamas reassured him. True enough, Cassian and Hawk headed to the camp carrying the body of a dead deer. "We got lucky. Hawk spotted it right before we went back here." Cassian remarked as the two put down the mass of meat beside the fireplace. Xhiamas looked at the spot where the deer was shot and gave an approving nod. "A clean kill, my friend. Have you ever shot a bow before?"
"Never. I considered it beginner's luck." Hawk remarked.
"Nonsense--we make our luck. Oh well, whether the bow was graced by your gods' blessings or not, we will be feasting tonight friends." The scout replied as he asked for Cassian's dagger and began to skin the animal, preparing what they considered to be the best meal they'd had since leaving Rosetown.
An hour had passed, and the moon was now shining brightly in the night sky. Supper was finally ready. Xhiamas rationed the food evenly amongst them and added an extra portion as a thank-you for Hawk, who declined the offer at first but was persuaded by the rest to accept it nonetheless.
"We caught a glimpse of the main road while hunting and spotted a small squad on horseback," Cassian said as he began to eat his share. "A dozen foot soldiers with a golden rose embedded on green cloaks; undoubtedly men sworn to serve the Polifios. They were headed directly into Shire's Eye, which is where we had all planned on going in the first place. What do we do now?"
An audible tone of disapproval was heard from Wyatt. Shire's Eye was a trading town built near a large lake that cut off into separate rivers, with each one leading to other towns that belonged to other great houses. It was neutral territory, as it was located between the borders of houses Polifio and Browgan. After the war ended, the two great houses established a rocky relationship as the town along with the lake were originally Browgans' land, long before the kingdom was united. However, the head of house Polifio at the time managed to weasel their way into claiming almost half of the territory. They reasoned that it was a 'small transaction' in exchange for their services during the war. The majority of the council agreed to it, but it left a bad taste in Lord Dunwick's mouth who was--and still is the head of the house. The story was well known amongst the common folk, especially to Wyatt as he and his father would occasionally visit Shire's Eye back then to sell weapons for food, money, and other goods.
"We press on. The town provides the only way to cross the great lake, and we have gone too far west to journey back." Xhiamas replied, staring into the flames. He has a point, Wyatt thought to himself. Our best bet would be to lay low and avoid catching unwanted attention. Hawk stood up and headed towards his side of the camp, having already finished his meal. "It's decided then. First thing in the morning, we make do for Shire's Eye. I'm off to rest. Wake me up in a few hours." He rested his bow and quiver on a nearby boulder and settled in for the night.
"I'll take the first watch," Wyatt volunteered. "I will join you." Xhiamas followed in quick succession. "Well then, I'll be off to catch some sleep. I'll take over after Hawk's watch has ended. Good night then." Cassian as well, headed over to his side of the camp and sprawled onto the ground, hoping to get a good night's sleep.
The night passed by quickly for all. It wasn't long after that when morning came, and everyone prepared themselves for the road ahead.
"Stealth will be essential today," Xhiamas instructed the group as he draped a grey cloth over his face. "We enter town and hire a boat that will lead us directly over towards the northeastern stream. From there, it should be smooth sailing towards Gillsberry, which will cut the traveling time at least half a day." Hawk and Cassian looked and nodded at each other, almost as if they agreed on something. "How about supplies? We can trade the deer pelts in exchange for gold that we could use to restock our rations." Cassian suggested. A part of Wyatt agreed to the idea, but it was far too risky. Even if the two houses were not exactly on good terms, local bounty hunters also joined in on the hunt, and nothing attracts such people more than the promise of gold.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"Hmm..." Xhiamas pondered on the idea. "It is a risk, but it is one I am willing to take. Give me the pelts." The two celebrated while Wyatt was left stunned. "Didn't you say just now that we need to lay low?" He picked up the war hammer with both hands and almost stumbled in doing so. The boy was still not accustomed to the weight despite training in between their travels. "Let me handle that problem," the scout chuckled. "If I were you, I would be more worried about how to blend in, seeing as you are carrying a war hammer of all things into a trading town. Now let us go while we have time to spare."
The group then trekked outside the forest, toward the main road, and waited for a moment to check if the area was clear. They then marched on as they tucked their heads down with Xhiamas leading the way, their faces draped with dirty cloth to mask their features. It was not long after when Shire's Eye finally came into view. The town was massive, partially because it was a center for trade in the west. It did not span as wide as Rosetown. It did not have intricately designed buildings, nor did it have fountains and a castle, but the place had a certain charm to it. There were only two existing ways to enter the trading port: stone bridges built on the opposing ends. Being on the western end, they went in knowing that the entrance was guarded with green cloaks, but as luck would have it, no soldier was seen patrolling the area. The group was only met with a madman who rambled about the end of the continent and a few unknown traders who showcased silverware and goods that Wyatt knew to be fraudulent in quality.
The more they ventured into town, the more the masses increased in quantity, and the group saw the full display of why Shire's Eye acquired its reputation. The town center was more of a huge marketplace rather than a location of governance. Vendors were scattered and lined up all across the streets, drunk people of different ages stumbled out of the local taverns, and one could see an occasional pickpocket snatch a pouch or two from a poor sod. The scene was undoubtedly lively, but that only made the group even more wary of the potential dangers that lay ahead of them.
"We split up for now. Keep your heads low, and try to hire a boat that will ferry us toward Gillsberry," Xhiamas instructed the group, who managed to merge with the bustling crowd despite their ragged looks and weapons on hand. "Hold on; how are we supposed to pay for the ferry when you have all the gold?" Wyatt asked, to which the scout replied by plucking a bronze coin hidden underneath his garment. The craftsmanship was beautiful and was not of Primeran lands, judging by the foreign patterns. "This should fetch a good price," he tossed the coin to Hawk, who almost failed to catch it. "Stick together, and once you find a ferryman, send someone back here in the center to meet up with me." The rest of them nodded their heads and then split off to work on their respective tasks.
Wyatt and company navigated the alleyways and streets, passing by potential buyers and tradesmen who were either selling goods or were drunk off their heads. "This town is a mess," Cassian remarked under his breath as he weaved through the mass of people, clutching his sword sheathed to his side. "It's a wild place for sure, but I can say without a doubt that this one's one of the 'tamer' places in Primera," Hawk replied to him, eliciting a bewildered look from Cassian. "Let's be glad we haven't run into any green cloaks yet." He was being cautious, as he occasionally looked left and right for any signs of trouble.
A few minutes of walking later, they found themselves at Shire's Eye's famous port where all imported goods were to be inspected, exports were to be made, and ferries were available for traveling purposes. It was also home to a fish market that Wyatt was familiar with, as he remembered eating fresh cod every time they were in town.
"Now...where do we begin?" Hawk scanned the area, looking for a potential ferryman who could help them with their journey. The smell of seafood and spices filled the air, distracting the trio. "Roasted fish...how I'd love to eat one or two right about now," Cassian remarked as his lips began to water. "I'd settle for some fresh cod right now, but time is not on our side," Wyatt piped in, agreeing with the idea. "Maybe we can ask Xhiamas to buy some if he has extra coins on him when he comes ba--" he stopped mid-sentence as Cassian and Hawk stared at him, confused. They turned and saw a group of green clocks that had turned from a corner and were now directly headed in their direction.
"Shit!" Hawk silently cursed as he gestured toward an empty table from the nearby fish stand that served food. "Take a seat, and lay low!" With no time wasted, they sat down and signaled to a girl who was tending to the other customers.
The soldiers marched, their light armor clanking with each heavy step they took on the wooden planks. The wind blew hard, causing the lake waters to splash. Wyatt took a quick glimpse at them and saw men with hardened looks. These men have seen battle before. He thought to himself. We're no match for these people. A soldier turned to Wyatt's direction and locked eyes with him, even if it was merely for a moment. The boy quickly retreated his gaze and stared back at the wooden table, praying to the Divines that they would ignore them.
Shit! Shit! Shit! His thoughts screamed, hating himself for his stupidity. Hawk and Cassian tried to play it off as casually as they could but eventually, Wyatt and company soon found themselves surrounded by green cloaks.
"Good morning to you folks," the soldier that Wyatt caught the attention of greeted them with a smile. He stood out from the rest as he wore armor of impressive quality, denoting his rank and status. "We're having a lovely day aren't we?" He positioned himself at the end of the table, observing each of their expressions.
"We're on the hunt for runaways. Well, to be frank, prisoners. Mainly those who escaped the chaos following what happened at Rosetown. You've heard the news by now haven't you?"
"We have, and a terrible thing for it to have happened, really," Hawk replied as the woman they signaled to earlier placed mugs of water onto their table. "I cannot understand the minds of the people behind such an act. I mean--who could ever do such a thing?" He asked the soldier in a shocked tone, hoping to shake off any suspicion from the man.
"Yes...who could do such a thing indeed," the green cloak managed to observe that they were carrying weapons. "You're pretty well equipped for people wearing travelers' clothing. State your business here in Shire's Eye." He asked the trio, who were now silently panicking and exchanging glances. A few moments passed but still no response came from the three of them, which only increased the suspicion of the group of green cloaks who were now ready to draw their swords.
"I'll ask again," the soldier asked, this time inching closer to Wyatt, with a cold demeanor. "State your business."
"Ah! There you are!" A voice rang out from behind them. The soldiers turned to the source, as did the three who breathed easy as they were seconds away from fighting for their lives. To their surprise, the voice came from the madman they encountered at the bridge earlier, however, this time he was wearing trader's clothing, and pinned on his chest was an ornament that symbolized a blue trout.
"Apologies my friends, if I was a bit late. You would think living in this town for so long, you would know the ins and outs like they were marked on the back of your hand." He continued. The man was no more in his early fifties. Streaks of grey covered portions of his hair and rugged beard. He also exuded an aura around him; a strong, imposing one, yet his face was calm, collected, but authoritative.
"You know these people?" One of the soldiers asked the stranger in grey, who settled himself onto the empty seat next to Wyatt. "Why of course--they're my clients from the eastern coast. Apologies if they dress in such a manner, the journey is understandably long and dangerous which explains the weaponry. As for the clothing, it would be best to travel in such as to avoid bandits, wouldn't it?" He explained to the soldiers, who mumbled to themselves as they believed in what he was saying. The supposed 'leader' of the green cloaks seemed hesitant to buy the story but eventually, he too, gave in.
"We'll be off then. Good day to you, gentlemen." The green cloaks then marched onward, leaving the trio with the stranger who saved their lives.
"We don't know who you are, but we're in your debt, good sir," Cassian spoke to the man in grey. "We don't have much at the moment, but we'll be sure to repay you in kind in due time." He continued. The man drank from a mug to quench his thirst and then let out a relieved sigh.
"In truth, I was the indebted one. After what had happened just now, I consider that debt to be paid," he turned to Wyatt who held his hammer, still ready for a fight. "I know that hammer from anywhere. Are you the Ironclad's son?" Wyatt eased his grip, as he was caught off guard after hearing his father's moniker.
"How do you know my father?" He asked. Hawk and Cassian readied their weapons on instinct after hearing Dale's name and seeing that Wyatt dropped his guard, bracing themselves due to the uneasy feeling they were getting.
"I fought by his side, boy. Saved my life, in fact," the stranger stood up and a visible scar was seen across his neck as he turned to face the three runaways. "The three of you should know when to calm down. All this tension is not good for you, especially for people at your age." They then looked at each other in confusion but calmed down enough for the stranger to breathe a sigh of relief.
"I, am Dunwick of the great House of Browgan," he introduced himself. "The warden of the west, and I welcome you to Shire's Eye." The wind blew across the trees and the great lake, causing water to splash along the port. The town was brimming with activity and full of noise, but between the four of them, only stunned silence stood out.