Wielder's Awakening (8 page)

The stone blocks rang as they slowly began to cross the bridge over the river.  Traven was surprised that they were the only people in sight.  He had expected a lot more traffic near such a large city as Kavar.  It was surprisingly quiet.  He could not see anyone entering or leaving the city as they slowly approached the east gate.  He was even more surprised to see that it was closed.  John had told him that the gate stayed open until after dark and was opened very early in the morning.  As Traven glanced over at Hank and John, he found that he was not the only one who was confused.

“There’s still at least an hour of light left!” Hank exclaimed.  “Why are the gates already closed?”

He shook his head with a sour expression on his face as they got closer and closer to the walls.  As they pulled up in front of the gate, a guardsman slipped out from a small door that was almost invisible in the wall next to the gate.  Traven realized it had been painted to resemble the stones of the wall.  The gate sentry advanced towards them cautiously trying to look in every direction at once as if expecting an ambush.

“What might you be doing coming to Kavar so late?” the grizzled guard demanded suspiciously.

“What do you mean late?” Hank demanded right back.  “I can’t remember the gates ever being closed this early in all the years I have been selling sheepskin.  Why don’t you tell me why the gates are closed so early?”

“Whoa there shepherd.  Calm down.  You mean you really haven’t heard the news?”  When Hank shook his head, the guard continued on.  “The countryside is full of bandits.  No one living outside the walls of the city dares to even step out of their homes after sunset.  There are plenty of caravans and farmers that have been attacked in the last couple weeks.  The only safe time to travel is during the light of day.  The gates have been ordered to stay shut from sunset to sunrise.  I’ll see what I can do though.  I can’t leave you out here with bandits about.  Just wait a minute.”

The guard slipped back through the door and left them standing there wondering if there really were bandits nearby.  John said that they had not seen any bandits so far and probably would not now, but he would still rather sleep in a comfortable bed tonight than on the ground again.  After several minutes, the gate still had not opened.  Hank suggested that they might as well find a good spot to set up camp, but as they turned to leave, the gates slowly began to creak open.  The gate stopped when it was just wide enough for the wagon to slip through and immediately began to close again after they squeezed by.  They thanked the guards and slowly made their way deeper into the city.

On either side of the street, shops were beginning to close up.  People dotted the streets as they finished up the errands of the day.  Here most of the shops were two stories.  It felt strange to have buildings towering all around him.  Back at home only Hand’s mill had been taller than a single story.  All of the buildings here seemed to be at least two stories.  They turned down the first street that crossed the one they were following and headed north towards the warehouses.  Hank explained that all of the warehouses were built around the northern gate.  By the time they reached the warehouse where they sold their sheepskins, it was beginning to get dark.  Even in the dark Traven could see that the warehouses towered above all of the shops around them.  Traven was sure that some of the warehouses had to be at least four stories.  The height of the buildings was somewhat offset by their width.  They didn’t seem quite so tall with their bases being even wider than they were tall.  They all seemed so immense to Traven. 

Hank and John turned into one of the smaller warehouses.  A short, balding man was waiting for them just inside the large doors.

“I was wondering if you fellows were going to make it or not.  I have some weavers that will be glad to know your shipment has arrived.  You’ve brought the first shipment of wool that’s come into the city since the bandits started raiding the highways.  It’s unfortunate, but it means more money for us,” he said with a wide grin.  “By the way, who’s the boy?  He isn’t one of yours is he?”

“Oh, sorry,” John replied.  “This is Traven.  He was traveling with us.  He’s headed to a merchant school in Calyn.  Traven this is Mr. Sottle.  He has been doing business with our family for years.”

Traven shook the old man’s hand and followed as he led them up some stairs to where he lived.  Hank and John continued to talk with Mr. Sottle as Traven followed them into a small room and sat with them.  He didn’t really pay attention to what they were talking about.  He was tired, and they were discussing boring things like wool prices and quality.  The room was not as small as Traven had at first thought.  It only seemed small in comparison to the rest of the building.  On the far side of the room there was a small table covered with papers where it appeared Mr. Sottle did his clerical work.  There was also a small dinner table and a wood carving of a hawk in flight.  The eyes of the hawk glittered back at him, and he realized that they were actually jewels.  As he took a closer look around the room he realized that Mr. Sottle was definitely not a poor man.  The legs of the table were spidered with veins of gold, and the fragile looking vases around the room suddenly took on another meaning.  He could now see all of the treasures displayed around the room.  Maybe he really would be wealthy once he completed merchant school.  He was pulled from his thoughts abruptly by something Mr. Sottle was saying.  They were no longer discussing boring subjects but were talking about the bandits.

“I can’t say how many there are out there, but there are definitely enough to slow down trade.  Baron Gregor has been sending out troops to clean them up, but only a few lone thieves have been found.  If you ask me, I don’t think that the problem is just a bunch of groups of ragtag bandits.  I think it is an organized group of them.  The group can’t be too large though or they would be easier for the baron’s troops to find.  Then again, there has to be quite a few together, because they’ve overpowered a merchant train that had over twenty guards, and they also overpowered a small detachment of soldiers that went out scouting at night.  I haven’t seen it this bad in a long time.  It probably has something to do with the army that’s supposedly being raised in Balthus.  Bandits are beginning to think that just because the Empress of Balthus is allowing an army to be raised, that the High King, may he live long and prosper, will let them do that here.  The royal army of Kalia is bulking up just in case there are any problems.  Baron Gregor has sent to Calyn for some troops to help his own soldiers stop anything here before it gets out of hand.  Hopefully things will be back to normal in a couple of weeks.”

“I hope so too.  What’s the world coming to when you can’t travel safely without a stinking army to protect you,” Hank spat.  “Bandits or not, I’m still going to head home tomorrow.  I’m not going to sit around in the city for weeks waiting for Baron Gregor to get the troops he needs to clear out the bandits.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.  If you guys made it here without any problems I think that you can make it back safely.  If I were you, I would leave tomorrow as soon as the gates open up and get as far away from the city as you can before stopping for the night.  Most of the attacks have occurred north and west of the city.  With luck you won’t run into any bandits, and even if they see you, you won’t have anything of value to entice an attack.”

“Yeah, let’s hope so.  As for the price of sheepskin, I wouldn’t mind if they stay the same.  If they do, I’ll be able to . . .”

Traven quit listening again.  Bandits everywhere!  That sounded more like adventure than sleeping in the rain.  Too bad they weren’t attacked by some on the way to Kavar.  He would have taken his hunting knife and, and . . . well he would have done something.  He paused in thought.  Maybe it was better that they hadn’t run into any bandits.  He was not sure how good his hunting knife would have been against a group of thieves.  What he needed was a sword.  Yeah, he definitely needed to get a sword.  With a sword he would be able to fight against the bandits.  If they came upon him, he would unsheathe his sword and put an end to those foolish bandits who tried to attack him.  He would slice and dice and . . .

“Helloooo in there.”  Traven jerked out of his thoughts and noticed that all three of the men were staring at him.  It was John who had addressed him.  “Are you just going to sit there all night staring off into space with that stupid grin on your face?  I don’t know about you, but I’m tired and want to get to an inn so I can get some real sleep before I leave in the morning.”

“Sorry,” Traven said as he jumped out of his seat and followed them back down the stairs.  The wagon was already unloaded even though he had never seen the workers in the warehouse who had unloaded it.  The workers must have done it while they were upstairs talking.  Hank took the gold coins that Mr. Sottle handed him for the sheepskins and put them in a large leather pouch at his belt.

“I don’t care how safe it’s supposed to be in the city.  I never let my gold out of sight.  You remember that Traven and you’ll never get it stolen.”

“That’s true enough but make sure you don’t go walking down dark alleys or you’ll get more stolen than just the money you’re displaying for everyone to see,” John chuckled.

With all of the business taken care of, Hank and John shook hands with Mr. Sottle and led Traven back out of the warehouse and onto the street.  Night had crept up on the city and engulfed it in darkness while they had been in the warehouse.  All of the buildings around were dark and there was no one to be seen out and about on the streets.  Traven muffled a yawn with his right hand as he started Dapple down the street after Hank.  The shepherd led them down the streets, turning every few minutes.  He told Traven that all of the good inns were toward the center of the city and with all the money he had just gotten he was going to get a very comfortable bed and some very good food.  Traven followed in silence as they made their way through the city.  The moon only gave off a little light, and most of the buildings that they passed were bathed in shadows.  It was hard to tell in the dark, but he was almost certain that some of the buildings that towered over the street were at least four or five stories tall.

At last Hank turned the final corner, and Traven found himself in a large square.  He could make out in the darkness a statue in the center of the square.  On the far side rose an immense building to rival the warehouses in size.  John told him that it was the baron’s palace and it was a sight to see in the daylight.  Across from the palace there were several large inns with their doors wide open, spilling light into the square.  Hank headed for one of the smaller ones.

“I may have quite a bit of money right now Traven, but believe me, if I went into one of those bigger inns, I would have to spend almost all of it.  By the way, do you have enough money for the inn John and I are staying at?  There are several inns that are a lot more affordable down that side street over there.”

“I’m pretty sure I have enough,” Traven replied, thinking of all of the gold coins his grandparents had sent with him.

He figured he had enough to stay at one of the biggest inns.  It couldn’t really cost as much as Hank had implied.  With Traven’s reassurance that he had plenty, they took their horses into the stables to the right of the inn that Hank had chosen.  Several stable boys scrambled quickly down from the loft to take the horses.

“Make sure that they get really good care.  And give them each some good oats.”  Hank tossed the stable boys a silver and then left the stables and headed for the front of the inn.

Traven could not make out the name of the inn in the dark but could see a picture of what appeared to be a blazing fire on the sign above the door.  As they entered the common room of the inn, they were bathed in the music of laughter and the sweet aroma of hot food.  There were people everywhere milling about the common room.  Hank led them to one of the only empty booths along the side of the room.  With the smell of warm food, Traven realized how hungry he was.  His stomach growled as soon as they sat down.  A plump serving woman with a welcoming smile was soon at their table asking what she could do for them.  Hank and John ordered a mug of ale and a roasted pheasant each.  Traven thought it sounded pretty good and decided to order a roasted pheasant as well with his hot apple cider.  He glanced around the room and looked at all of the different people.  They all appeared to be wealthy merchants by the look of them.  A few even appeared to be Balthuns.  They all seemed to be better dressed than he and his companions.

Traven was promptly interrupted from his study of the room with the appearance of the food he had ordered.  Hank slipped the waitress a tip, and she grinned and bobbed a curtsy before wandering off to another table.  The food looked so inviting.  Traven dug in immediately.  Around the pheasant there were potatoes and other vegetables that he devoured first.  After taking a long drink from his mug, he swiftly made the pheasant disappear.  Soon all that was left on his plate were bones and a little juice from the tender pheasant.  With the weight of the food in his stomach and the warm cider in his belly, his eyelids began to droop.  He shook his head.  He could not fall asleep yet.  He had just barely gotten to the city.  Yet, despite all of his determination to stay awake, he slowly began to fade away.