Wind-Scarred (The Will of the Elements, Book 1) (19 page)

“
We all do what we have to, Hawkins,” Sarah said cryptically.
“Just trying to get by.”

Mat joined up with them back by the skiff.
“Oh, before I forget,” Ezra said as he pulled on his rain gear, “my
secretary was poking around old Guild events. I think I threw her
off the scent, but she found some pictures of this guy, was
wondering if you knew him. His name was... something with an R.
Ralson, I think.”

Mat made a choking sound as Sarah exploded.
“What, one time wasn't enough?! It hurts, okay! Now can you both
just drop this so I can do my job?!” She started the skiff and
began moving it into a better position to watch the town. Ezra
thought he heard her sniff and saw her shoulders tremble slightly.
Mat gave him a warning look.

“
I'll take first watch.” Mat intoned quietly. “The town should
be pretty quiet 'till some time after dawn, especially if this rain
doesn't let up. You two try and get some sleep.” He settled in to
watch the town. Sarah pulled her rain gear around her without
looking at either of them and hunkered down under it, staring off
into the night without seeing anything. Ezra shook his head, too
tired to be curious, then tried to fall asleep.

He failed. A few hours later, Mat produced a
small thermos of coffee. Ezra glared up at the still pouring rain
and nodded his thanks to Mat, taking the covered cup that was
offered to him. Mat set a second cup next to Sarah. “Tell me about
it?” Ezra asked after taking a scalding sip.

Mat glanced at Sarah's still, unmoving form.
“Not for me to say,” he muttered, pouring himself a steaming cup.
They sat watching the day brighten, the sun rising somewhere behind
the rain and clouds.

Several minutes later Sarah stirred, one
hand slipping from beneath her rain gear to pick up the coffee. Her
voice was rough as she said, “Report. Anything notable?”

“
Nothing so far.” Mat took a moment to scan the small town
through his scope. “Looks like there's a little movement. We should
probably get you two fitted out to head in there and get a better
feel for things.”

Sarah nodded as Ezra looked through the
packs Mr. Blair had provided for them. One contained five jugs of
the cider they had brought back from Arborlen. Mat looked over his
shoulder. “Good thing we brought a packhorse, eh?” He let out a
laugh as he thumped Ezra on the back. Even Sarah almost smiled at
that.

“
I
think I'm getting a cold,” Ezra said miserably over the
communicators, just over an hour later as he and Sarah marched
along the muddy road into town. The pack shifted uncomfortably on
his back with every step.

“
Pretend like you do this for a living, Hawkins, and stop
whining.” Sarah was clearly enjoying Ezra's private little
hell.

“
If I did this for a living, you can be sure that I'd complain
every step of the way, but probably louder and about a wider array
of issues,” Ezra grumbled back. Mat snickered from his lookout
position on a little hill near the town, the skiff at rest behind
its holographic camouflage somewhere nearby. They walked into town
unchallenged, Mat keeping them informed about any movement as they
made their way in.

“
It looks like there are a few people gathered at the inn.
They're setting tables, getting ready up for the morning. Seems a
decent starting point. Two more buildings in, then turn left,
thirty meters and it will be the big one on your right.” Mat's
voice came through clearly despite the pounding rain.

“
On our way,” Sarah replied, picking up her pace. Ezra let out
a sigh, hoisting the heavy pack higher on his back, trotting to
keep up. They opened the doors to the inn wide and let themselves
in. There were three people in the room. A big, comfortably
overweight man stood to the back of the bar, beard bristling. A
worried looking, plump woman wrung her hands in her apron, eyes
bloodshot and puffy, as if she had been crying. A little slip of a
girl, probably eight or nine years old, paused as she set a table,
freckled face looking up at the intruders. All three of them seemed
to breathe a sigh of relief when they saw Sarah and Ezra, then went
back about their business. The big man walked up to greet
them.

“
Traders?” he grunted out, nodding at the pack on Ezra's
back.

Sarah smiled broadly. “Arborlen's best
cider, just got it out before winter. Trying to get in one last
trip before heading home.” She gestured curtly for Ezra to place
the pack on the floor.

“
Ungh,” the man grunted again, picking out one of the jugs,
checking the labels and smelling the contents. Replacing the
bottle, he began to say something and was immediately interrupted
by the plump woman who bustled over, wiping off her
hands.

“
Well, we always like seeing Arborlen apples down here,
especially so late in the year. Sit, sit. Kelly!” she hardly seemed
to take a breath as she spoke, calling to the slight young girl,
“bring out a loaf of that bread. I'm Mistress Wellward. You'll have
to excuse my husband, always jabbering on. Now, where were we? Oh
yes, the cider. It will be so nice to have something to warm up
what with the weather and the terrible commotion with that...” She
stopped herself, eyes widening, then continued hurriedly, “Oh but
now you won't care about that. A price! That's why you're here,
after all. Now, we don't have much mind, you. There are a few bits
of fur we had put aside, and some cheese that should be ready, and
then of course we have-”

“
Potatoes,” Sarah interrupted her. “Hearty Southedge potatoes
can fetch a decent price further west, and we'd be obliged to take
any you can spare. We can haggle over the price later, after you've
accounted for our staying the night, that is.” Kelly arrived with
the bread, still warm. “If you have a free room? I'm afraid we've
been walking all night.”

“
You want to stay the night?” Mrs. Wellward squeaked. “Oh, but
I'm sure that important people like you have important things to be
doing. The skyports, that's where you'll be headed. Really no
reason to stay around here, really. I'm sure you'd be much more
comfortable on the road or out-”

“
In this storm?” Sarah asked incredulously. “No, a few hours
spent not being wet and cold-” Mat grumbled at them incoherently
through the comm link, “-sound heavenly right about now. And if you
have a stable with some dry hay for my man here, he can help clean
up to earn his keep.” Mat's grumbles turned to chuckles. Ezra
looked from Sarah to the other woman in panic. She wouldn't
really... he knew she was upset, but a stable?
Seriously?

“
I
really don't know what we can offer you, what with the weather and
not having had a chance to get everything ready... and then we'd
have to adjust the cooking and set aside time for the cleaning
and-”

“
Martha, leave off,” Mr. Wellward rumbled as he easily lifted
the pack containing the cider. “S'ok.” He nodded to Sarah and Ezra
and made his way back toward the kitchen.

“
Well, all right then,” Mrs. Wellward sounded a little
flustered. “Kelly? Can you show Mistress...”

“
Miss, actually. Hughes. Sarah Hughes. Call this one Ezra.” She
gestured to Ezra, smirking at him. “He tries his best, don't you
Ezra?” Her voice pitched as if talking to an excitable dog. Martha
Wellward grimaced slightly, then gestured to her
daughter.

“
Well, go along now Kelly, show Miss Hughes up to the third
room, that one should be clean. Go on now.” She shooed the girl off
with Sarah trailing in her wake. Once they had left the room, she
turned to Ezra. “Now don't you worry none, we don't hold with
slavery around here. Especially with masters like that.”
She thinks I'm Sarah's slave
, Ezra thought dazedly.
Oh, this just
gets better and better.
“
You just go on out through the side
door and take the ladder up to the hay loft and relax for a spell.
I'll send Kelly along with some hot soup for you, won't that be
nice?” She smiled at him and patted his hand.
And slow,
Ezra amended.
She thinks I'm an idiot slave.
Wonderful...

He smiled and bowed lightly to her,
following her instructions to the hay loft. He had a nice view of
the town, Mat's hill looming in the background. “Thanks Sarah. The
hay is great,” he grumbled into his communicator.

“
Just trying to give you the whole experience, Hawkins. Keep an
eye on anyone coming or going, especially if they look like they
might be our wind-scarred friend. I've got a view of the road
behind the building from here. Any luck on your end,
Mat?”

“
Town's starting to come to life, as much as anything can in
this thundering rain. Nothing yet.”

Ezra heard the door below him open and
close. He urgently tried to tug his sword out from under him.
“Guys, there's someone-” Kelly's head popped up over the top of the
ladder, grinning. Hot soup, that's right; he had forgotten. He
blamed Sarah. And Mat. And the stupid rain. “False alarm,” he
murmured, smiling back at the little girl.

She produced a bowl of steaming soup and a
chunk of the freshly made bread. He nodded to her as he took it,
and she squatted down to stare at him in unabashed interest. “Yes?”
he said in amusement.

“
Mama says you're a slave.” Ezra grimaced and nodded at the
girl's observation, making a mental note to kill Sarah some time
soon. “That sounds pretty bad. It's like you have to take orders
all the time, and you never get to do what you want or anything,”
she continued, eyes drifting to the bread in his hand. Ezra smiled
and broke off a piece, offering it to her. She quickly took it and
grinned at him. “Thanks. You seem pretty okay, so I'll tell you
something. When I grow up, I'm gonna be an adventurer!”

“
Really?” Ezra asked, choking a little on his bread from the
suddenness of her revelation. What exactly had he done to warrant a
serious hopes and dreams talk from the little girl?

She bobbed her head enthusiastically.
“Uh-huh. And I'm gonna be an earth-crowned, or maybe travel with
one.” Her eyes got a far-away look as she stared out into the rain.
“They get to go everywhere,” she said in a tone of quiet awe,
“anywhere they want, whenever they want. And no-one tells them what
do or anything.” Ezra glanced around, not sure where this was
going. He held out the bowl of soup, and she absently dipped her
bread in it and took a bite. “I like you,” she said around
mouthfuls. “Lets be friends.” She held out her free hand toward
him. “Kelly.”

Ezra smiled again at the odd child, and
shook her hand. “Ezra.”

Kelly nodded suddenly, as if deciding
something. “One day, Ezra, when I'm an earth-crowned, I'll take you
on adventures with me. Then you won't have to be a slave and you
can do whatever you want.”

Ezra chuckled. “And how will you become an
earth-crowned?” he asked, bemused by the blunt little girl.

She gave him a look as if he had asked the
stupidest question she had ever heard. “Everyone knows that,” she
said, then her voice lilted into the obvious meter of a child's
rhyme,

The earth-crowned are drawn

From the bold and the strong

From those who protect

And will right any wrong

Ezra felt the smile fall off his face. That
was... basically the same conclusion he had come to, but only after
hours and hours of pouring through the Guild's mission reports. And
yet... if this was something everyone, even the children, knew
about... they were missing something, something important. He began
to ask her if she knew anything about the other elementalists, when
Mrs. Wellward's voice drifted up to them, tone that of a mother
calling her lollygagging children back to their duties.

“
I
better get back inside now. I need to help take care of Daniel
while he's sick. Bye, Ezra!” Kelly vanished down the
ladder.

“
Bye,” Ezra said quietly as she left. He mulled over what he
had learned from the little girl, so certain that she could become
an earth-crowned, simple as rhyming.

“
You should ask her out when this is all over, Hawkins,”
Sarah's voice came through, dry and amused.

Sounds of Mat trying not to laugh weren't
far behind. “Oh, oh help! The little girls are coming for me! They
might have soup!” His communicator echoed with the choked
laughter.

“
Shut up, jerks,” Ezra grumped, embarrassed. He turned his gaze
away from the hill, positive that Mat was watching him from his
vantage point. That was the only reason he saw the little boy
standing on top of a weather vane over a tall building behind the
stable. A little boy staring directly at Mat.

The child's skin was an almost unreal black,
his hair a mess of wiry black curls. Somehow he didn't even look
wet in the rain... “Mat,” Ezra said urgently, “there's a dark kid
standing on the weather vane behind the stable. He's looking
directly at you.”

The boy glanced down toward Ezra, almost
like he'd heard, and smiled broadly. A gust of freezing wind
suddenly kicked up hay all around him as a solid sheet of water
obscured his vision. “Blighted rain,” Mat swore. “Where? I don't
see anything, Ezra.”