The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 01 - Elseerian (25 page)

Slipping through the doors just before the last vestiges of light vanished, they paused and watched as the gates closed.  Lock after lock clicked behind them and Trin swallowed as an unnatural desire washed over him to tear the doors off and run into the night. They were in until dawn; hopefully they could finish their business by then.

“Come on,” the captain said in an effort to be encouraging, “let’s get some ale and a bed to sleep in, my coin.”

It was a testament to how nervous the crew was that no one responded when ale and a warm bed where mentioned.

“You’re on! But don’t start thinking any of you seadogs can out-drink me!” Trin exclaimed. His broad smile and joking words seemed to lighten the dark feelings that continued to envelop them, and they set out behind the captain’s retreating form.

As they trudged through the dim streets, Trin did his best to keep his demeanor pleasant. Despite his lighthearted words, it had taken far more effort than he would care to admit to fight the growing sense of dread. Forcefully he brushed it aside with some help from his deeply rooted sense of humor and focused on the city.

Unlike Keese, Tallendale did not extend to the water. Situated on a small hill, a low wall surrounded the entire city. A stone’s throw from the bulwarks, the waterfront contained an assortment of warehouses for holding goods. Docks long and short extended out over the waters of the Blue Lake and the Blue River.

A natural shipping point, the settlement seemed to have grown from a small village into a large city, with no regard for order. Expanding too rapidly, it had been added onto so many times it had become a maze of dirt roads and winding cobblestone lanes. Buildings were mostly leaning, two-story structures made of wood and thatch. Whereas Keese had been lit by numerous lamps, Tallendale possessed only a few smoky torches struggling to illuminate intersections. Most of the light that guided them came from dirty, greasy windows. Even the people they passed were drab, and rushed past them as if they carried some disease. Only one made eye contact, and he had his hand on his sword hilt.

Trin sighed, recalling his childhood home of Terros. As the capital of the eastern kingdom of Griffin, its white granite walls and towering buildings had become a beacon of order and strength. At least, that is the way he remembered it. Now he felt a growing dread at what he would find when he returned to his homeland. Deep down, he recognized that the further east they went, the worse it became. So what would he find in Terros?

Distracted by his thoughts, he nearly ran into Hunrin as he stopped at a structure larger than those around it. Erix leaned over and spoke quietly to Trin: “Keep your wits about you, boy, this isn’t a good place but it’s one of the few places owned by an honest man.”

Glancing at the creaking sign above him, Trin responded lightly, “As long as the ale doesn’t
actually
have hair in it, I’ll be fine.”  The sign above the door read “The Bearded Keg.”

Steeling himself for anything, he stepped through the door and took a look around. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected, although it seemed somewhat more subdued than a normal inn. The common room they’d entered contained numerous patrons eating, drinking, and talking in low tones, with many seated at a bar along the back wall. For some reason, a group of men clustered around something at the side of the room, each craning to see into the middle.

“What’s going on over there?” Trin asked the captain as they sat down at a table near the bar.

Glancing at the group, Erix shook his head and shrugged.

“They’re just finishing up a tournament of Stratos,” a barmaid answered as she came to their table.

“What’s Stratos?” Trin asked, his eyes on the crowd.

She frowned. “It’s a game. Started a few years back and it’s become pretty popular among kids
and
adults. Where have you been?” She speared him with suspicious eyes.

“Er, away on business,” Trin replied with a disarming smile that did little to assuage her concerns; then changed the subject back to the game. “They’re having a tournament of a
game
? Isn’t that a little . . . childish?”

She smirked without losing her wariness. “You haven’t played it. Adults started practicing it when some captain told his soldiers that they would become better officers if they played—and it worked. It wasn’t long before cities were having competitions.” Her tone went a little quieter and she stared into space. “I’m glad they let them do the tournament; it’s made folk almost happy. They nearly canceled it, you know.” She shook her head and forced a smile. “Now what can I get for you?”

“Four plates of whatever you are serving and ale as well,” Erix answered. “Oh, and can you tell Folson that Erix is here to see him?”

As she bustled away to get them something to eat, Trin stood up. “I’m going to check out this game,” he said, jerking his head towards the gathering in the corner.

“Don’t be long,” Hun grunted, “or you will miss the food.”

Trin nodded and carefully threaded his way through the tables and patrons. It turned out that the group was larger than he’d thought. At least thirty men stood or sat around two individuals facing each other at a table. After several attempts of trying to squeeze through earning him glares, he resigned himself to standing on a chair to see.

With his head above the crowd, he finally managed to get a good look at the game, although he couldn’t see the players. It looked like some sort of wooden board with black and white squares, ten to a side. What seemed to be carved wooden soldiers painted black and green stood at various spots on the board. Upon closer inspection, he could see that black was losing—badly. Taking a quick count, he saw that green had nine pieces and black had only four. Two of the black soldiers were in one corner and the other two were spread out alone. Green had surrounded each of them.

Then the green player reached forward and made a move, taking one of the black pieces. Whatever he’d done elicited murmurs from the onlookers. A spectator moved to whisper to someone, and Trin was finally able to see the black player—who turned out to be a soldier. He was an older man, thin and bearded. It seemed strange that a soldier would be in here playing a game, but Trin was even more surprised when he leaned over to get a look at the green player and saw a kid.

The young man playing green had light brown hair and matching eyes. He was a little on the plump side, and something about his posture told Trin that he wasn’t a fighter. In contrast, his eyes surveyed the board in the same calculating way that Trin would look at a group of charging swordsmen. Without warning the chair underneath Trin squeaked in protest, eliciting disapproving looks. Cursing under his breath, he righted himself before he could fall.

After craning his neck for several minutes, Trin was able to watch the black player make several moves but he took only one of the green pieces. Green then took two more black pieces, and the soldier sighed before standing up.

“You are just too good, kid, I swear.” He toppled over his last piece. “You win.” He then handed the young man a small bag that clinked with money.

The crowd began to disperse amidst loud conversation, and Trin tried to listen in on the two men next to him.

“Amazing game. I can’t believe the kid won.”

“I knew he would—Braon is the best.”

“But he’s only fifteen, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think he’s ever lost.”

“Why is he in the adult tournament anyway?”

The man guffawed. “Because he beat everyone else!”

Trin turned away from the two men and pushed his way through the remaining crowd to find the young man cleaning up the game and putting the pieces into a leather bag.

“Hey kid, what are you playing?” Trin asked as he sat down across from him.

The young man looked up and smiled warmly. “Oh, just a game. It’s called Stratos. Ever heard of it?”

“Of course,” Trin replied; then he leaned in with wide eyes and a faint grin, “about five minutes ago.” The young man laughed a boyish laugh in response.

“I would teach you how to play, but I need to get some rest,” Braon replied; then his tone turned worried. “I have to find a ship that is going to Terros tomorrow morning.”

Trin spread his arms out wide and grinned. “Hey kid, you’re in luck. That’s where we’re going.”

“Really?” Braon asked excitedly. “I haven’t been able to find
any
ship going east. Do you think I could get a ride with you?”

Something about his tone made Trin suspect that the young man was more relieved than excited—but also scared. Braon didn’t
want
to go east—he had to.

Sidestepping the question for the moment, Trin answered his request with another question: “Do you have another tournament?”

“Nope, I just need to get home. I’m from Terros.”

“Hey! That’s where I’m from! I haven’t been back in a few years though. Anything changed?”

Braon hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding, “Nah, pretty much the same.”

Trin didn’t miss the pause, but still figured it wouldn’t be a problem to take him with them. “I would think you can come with us, but you’d need to ask the captain. Care to join us at our table?”

“Sure,” he answered and finished gathering up the game pieces.

 As Braon followed Trin through the crowded room, Trin took the opportunity to surreptitiously study the young man behind him. With a few casual backward glances, he noticed two things. Braon was definitely
not
a fighter; his movement was exactly that of a plump young man. The odd thing was that his eyes
were
those of a fighter: cautious and wary, they took everything in. For some reason he couldn’t explain, Trin would bet anything that Braon knew everything that was going on in the room—including any threats.

Stopping next to Hunrin, Trin addressed the captain. “This young man would like to sail with us to Terros.”

Erix leaned back and pursed his lips, measuring Braon for a moment before giving his answer. “I don’t hold with disrespect,” he said firmly. “If you don’t follow my orders, I will drop you at the first spot of dry land. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly, sir. Thank you for the ride. I was beginning to lose hope for a chance to return home this week.” Braon’s attitude conveyed the utmost respect; he even bowed a little.

The captain’s expression softened. “Any parents with you, or are you by yourself? And are you riding as a deckhand or passenger?”

“By myself, and passenger preferably,” he responded easily.

“Six silver, then, and you have yourself a deal,” Erix offered.

Braon answered by reaching into a bag at his waist and handing the captain
nine
pieces of silver. “What time do we leave, sir?”

Erix held the money and looked with crinkled brow at the young man. Six silver was the price of a child. Nine silver was for an adult. “At first light we are going to get some supplies and then leave as soon as possible.”

“I will be at your ship at first light. Thanks again.” And with that he turned and walked away.

“Do you want to know which ship?” Trin called out to him.

He looked back just long enough to say, “The
Sea Dancer
, I already know.”

As he walked towards the back of the inn, Hun spoke for the first time. “That is one smart kid, Captain.”

“I’d have to agree with that,” Erix replied in amusement, “and there’s no question he’s used to taking care of himself. I wonder how he knew about our ship.”

“The kid’s good,” Trin said, his tone thoughtful as he watched Braon’s retreating form work its way towards the back of the room. As he finally sat down he couldn’t shake the feeling that the young man had already known who he was and what ship he was on, before he’d even introduced himself.

They only had a moment to consider the interesting encounter before the barmaid returned with four bowls of steaming stew and mugs of ale.

“Folson said he would talk to you in the back in half an hour," her tone dropped, "
alone
. He said to give you a room as well. Upstairs, third door on the right.” Then she disappeared without waiting for a response.

“Do you have a friend in
every
city?” Trin asked as they began to eat.

“At least one,” Erix replied with a small smile.

They finished the meal in silence with each of them wrapped up in their thoughts. Finishing first, the captain stood. “I am going to talk to Folson. I’ll meet you in the room.”

He strode towards the back and disappeared through a door. A few minutes later the three of them climbed the stairs and found their room. Trin wasn’t the only one yawning as they climbed into the rickety beds and quickly fell asleep.

It felt like only an hour before Hun shook Trin awake.

“Time to go. The others are already downstairs eating breakfast,” he said.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Trin said, irritated, but sat up and pulled his boots on.

“We tried, but you refused to stop snoring,” Hun exclaimed with a bark of laughter.

Trin snorted and finished strapping his longsword to his back before following Hunrin down the stairs. Entered the dining hall, he stopped short at the feel in the room. Whatever levity the previous night’s games had provided was long gone. Men and women alike cast suspicious glances on each other, and few were speaking. Despite the warmth from the fire, Trin felt a chill go down his spine.

Grabbing a plate from the bar, he joined the others and ate fast enough to finish at the same time. He wasn’t surprised that no one else teased him about not waking up. The tension in the room made even him lose his sense of humor.

Erix slapped some coins on the table and stood. “Let’s get some supplies and get out of this place,” he said in an undertone.

Trin nodded in relief and followed them back into the streets. Streaks of light were barely piercing the darkness and the early morning chill still held frost on windows as they hurried down dim alleys. It was even earlier than he’d thought. Dawn was still at least half an hour away. He smiled to himself,
No wonder it was hard for them to wake me.