Chapter Twenty-Three

Skipping down the steps of the former inn, Ryland crossed the front courtyard and went to the edge of the road which linked the inn with the rest of the town. After wetting his finger to determine the direction of the breeze, he turned right and set out in that direction in hopes of finding the source of the jam smell.

He seemed to be getting closer as he went deeper into Falsefort’s business district, and the buildings around him grew from being one or two levels to being three or more wedged together into narrow streets.

Yes. It’s definitely around here somewhere. He decided, as he reached a crossroads.

Then, as he stopped to look around, he heard the sound of footsteps coming from the road to his left, and instinctively ducked back into the shadows of the building behind him.

He wasn’t a thief and had every right to be there, but there was no harm in being cautious when he was still a newcomer to a gateway town that saw more than its share of travellers and troublemakers.

And, from his hidden place, he watched two men emerge from the side street to cross in front of him.

Speaking of troublemakers.

Marlowe and Roddy Bentham, two of his crew of escorts, were quietly talking to each other as they carried their weapons in their hands and travel bags over their shoulders.

They’re deserting.

Ryland sighed. Not much surprise here. If anyone were to try to leave after what had happened earlier that night it would be these two.

They don’t want to lose their signing bonus, so they’re going before they have to give it back in the morning.

He thought about ignoring them. The group would be better off without them.

Then he thought about what he’d said to Koamalu earlier.

We need everyone we can get.

If what he suspected was true, every man could make a difference.

Even these two.

So after a moment’s hesitation, Ryland stepped out and sprinted after the pair.

“Hey!” He shout-whispered at them as he approached.

Both spun around, weapons at the ready, and Roddy looked worried, but Marlowe seemed to relax as soon as he saw who it was.

“Get lost, kid.” The gambler said, tapping Roddy on the shoulder to calm him down. “Unless you want to do the smart thing and join us.”

Ryland shook his head. “You’re making a mistake.”

“The only mistake was joining this bunch.” Marlowe shook his head. “It was a nice way to get a few meals on the way up, but we’re going to go look for better work in the valleys. Something that doesn’t get us killed.”

Ryland couldn’t keep from laughing at that.

“The valleys are filled with bandits and farmers. Which are you going to be?”

“Hey! Farming’s a good life.” Roddy protested. Which wasn’t really a surprise, since Ryland had pegged him for a farm-boy from the day they’d been introduced.

“Sure. You could do that, settle down with some farmer’s daughter. Maybe take over the farm. Until the bandits come. You heard Thabita - those valleys are crawling with bandits right now.” Ryland said, exaggerating what they’d be told, but not regretting it.

“‘Comes to that, I’ll fight.” Roddy said. “We both will.”

Sensing Roddy was the follower in this situation, Ryland decided to focus on Marlowe and shifted his gaze back to the gambler. “So, what’s it going to be? You can’t go back into the lowlands or your debts will catch up with you. You can’t go into the valleys without finding more trouble.”

“I… I can always keep moving.”

“Yeah. You can, but you’ll run out of valley sooner or later, or end up accused of cheating and get your throat cut.”

Ryland saw hesitation in Marlowe’s eyes.

“If you stay, I can’t say it will be easy, but you’ll know where you’re sleeping and who has your back.” Ryland offered. “Better pay too. You heard what our travel bonus will be at the end of the caravan run. You want out after that, that’s your call, but a few months of trouble for money that can make your life a whole lot easier is worth it, right?”

“Money ain’t no good if we’re killed.” Roddy took a step forward, almost shouting in Ryland’s face. “I ain’t signed up for no war.”

“We do this smart, and we work together.” Ryand said evenly. “Nobody is going to die and there won’t be any war. We show them we’re strong and they’ll back off. That’s why we need to train.”

There was a pause as both sides thought about it, then Roddy spit on the ground in front of Ryland and turned away.

“C’mon, let’s go.” He said as he walked past Marlowe.

But Marlowe didn’t move, and Ryland could see he was considering his options.

No, Ryland thought, his angles. He hadn’t survived this long as a gambler by making hasty decisions.

“Kid,” Marlowe finally said. “I got an offer for you.”

“Put it on the table,” Ryland said. He’d been expecting something like this.

“You give me that fancy crossbow of yours, and I’ll stay.”

“Hey!” Roddy yelled, giving up trying to be quiet.

“Shut up,” Marlowe snapped. Then he licked his lips and studied Ryland. “What do you say, kid?”

Ryland had to smile. He was getting poorer by the minute it seemed. First giving his salary to Hein and now Marlowe was shaking him down. He was going to be begging on street corners before too long if this kept up.

Marlowe’s choice made sense. He wanted a good weapon that put him at the back of the fighting instead of the front and kept him safe. That was, of course, if he didn’t just run away with it and sell it to some craftsmakers in Siltcarden for a small fortune for the design.

At last, Ryland nodded.

“You can have it.”

Marlowe grinned. You mean it?”

“Yeah. But you can’t have it until the first night the convoy beds down.”

“Oh,” Marlowe’s grin faded fast.

You want it, you’ll need to stick around.

“Still, it’s all yours. Bolts too.” Ryland said. “I’ll even let you practice with it sometime so you’re good with it. What do you say?”

Marlowe sucked in a breath, and then nodded as well. “Alright. Deal.”

“Dung and fire!” Roddy cursed. “You mean it?”

“Yeah. I do.” The gambler confirmed. “I’m staying. Go on without me.” He shouldered his travel bag and walked past Ryland in the direction of Mrs. Morley’s.

Roddy watched him go, and his gaze met Ryland’s.

“Sorry,” Ryland shrugged. “Only got one bow. You want to stay or go, it’s up to you.”

Roddy shook his head and turned to walk away, but after a few steps he cursed and stamped his food. Then he turned and walked past Ryland, grumbling under his breath as he hurried after Marlowe.

Turn the nose, and the tail will follow. Was something Ryland’s father had always said about leading animals. It worked for people too.

Ryland watched them go, and then sniffed the air.

Speaking of noses.

But the smell was gone, and a few circles around the area showed he’d lost the scent.

Eventually, Ryland yawned and feeling his limbs start to get heavy, he too turned and wandered back to the former inn and his bed.

The next morning as the sun rose, nine people stood next to the shadow of the sword Hein Clifton had planted in the dry courtyard ground the night before.

Eight were lined up on one side of the sword. Not a one was missing.

The ninth stood facing the other eight, and nodded.

“Alright then. Let’s begin.”

After dinner that night, Ryland had to force himself to move.

His muscles were so shaky that he almost fell over as he moved to the washing basin that Mrs. Morley had kindly left in his room. The cool water felt good as he splashed himself with it, and he got off as much of the dust and dirt of the day as he could.

Hein’s morning had started with three runs to the front gate of the city and back as a before-breakfast warmup, and then things had gone downhill from there. He should have suspected what the older mercenary’s training would be like from his ideas of “team building” but he still hadn’t been prepared for the sheer brutality of the training.

Even Koamalu, who was basically a walking god of health, had stumbled at times during the first day of training. And each time, Hein’s screams and insults had gotten him moving again.

Ryland was nowhere near Koamalu’s level of strength and had come last in almost every competition and exercise they’d done. But despite the pitying looks from his comrades, he didn’t complain. He needed this training more than any of them, and he was going to see it through if it killed him.

And after a whole day of this, Ryland was sure that none of them except Hein himself could do more than lay helplessly and try to recover.

It was a luxury Ryland couldn’t afford, no matter how much he wanted it.

So, when he was done washing and had put on some fresh clothes, Ryland lifted the lid to the lockable wooden chest Mrs. Morley had provided him and went to lift out the bundle that was inside.

A bundle that should have taken little effort to lift, but which forced Ryland’s tired arms into a painful struggle to get up and out of the chest.

Now I know I have to go today. He thought. If I wait until tomorrow, I’ll never be able to lift it.

Then holding it against his chest with both hands like a baby, because it was easier to hold that way, he left his room and went downstairs.

The common room was filled with the sounds of snoring, and he looked in to see most of the other escorts flopped in chairs or sleeping on the dining table. They’d been too tired after dinner to move and had just fallen asleep where they were instead of trying to make it back to their rooms.

He would do anything to join them, but he pressed on to the front door.

“Well, aren’t you full of beans.” Mrs. Morley said to him as he stepped outside. The old lady swept the dust from the front porch with an old straw broom. “Got a girl to see already?”

Ryland gave her a tired smile. “I doubt any of them would care much for me.”

That got a surprisingly loud laugh from the older woman. “While you lot were eating, I had to shoo away a half dozen of the little dander-heads from the front porch. Didn’t you see them watching you?”

That made Ryland pause. “I guess I was too tired.”

“Two of them even asked about you - and I mean you. If you’re feeling lonely, I think I can help.”

“I don’t think the local fathers would be too happy with you.”

Mrs. Morley gave him another gap-toothed grin. “Why do you think I’m offering?”

Despite his tiredness, Ryland couldn’t help but laugh at that. “No. Thank you. I don’t think I’m going to be doing anything but training for the next few months.”

“Then what about that?” Mrs. Morley gestured at the bundle he carried with the handle of the broom. “That your pot of gold?”

“It just might be,” Ryland nodded. “It just might be.”

The next two weeks passed by in a blur for Ryland and the rest of the escorts. With the exception of any who were sent on day trips (and Ryland was never picked), the escorts trained from sun-up to dinner every day under Hein’s harsh training.

Maybe it was his youth, but after the first two weeks Ryland began to get accustomed to the training, and now could keep up with the other escorts fairly well. In fact, he had enough energy that Hein let him start doing separate weapons training sessions with Jandra in the afternoon while the others were sparring.

And he found he wasn’t collapsing at night anymore. In fact, none of them were, and they began to return to a more normal routine, which even included his playing the Surrounding Game with Koamalu in their free time after dinner.

It was after one of these games, when Koamalu had retired and gone off to bed, that a familiar scent again crossed his nose.

Buxberry pie.

Ryland stood up.

This time, he was going to find the source of that smell for sure.