The Unwilling Adventurer (The Unwilling #1) (10 page)

They looked at each other for one long, surprised moment, and then she let out a scream like the one he'd heard and ducked down into the water to hide everything below the neck. He spun on his heels, and his face felt like it was on fire.

"W-what the hell are you doing here!" Pat screamed at him.

"I thought you were in trouble! You were screaming!" he shouted back. He heard her huff.

"That's because this water is freezing," she grumbled. "I tried to walk in quickly, but the cold temperature surprised me, that's all."

"If it's so cold then why are you in there?" Fred asked her. When she didn't reply, he worried and cast a chance glimpse over his shoulder. Her eyes drove daggers into his own, and he whipped his head back.

"It's because she wishes to be clean for our arrival at the castle," a voice spoke up. Ned surprised both of them when he stepped out of a patch of bushes close by Fred.

Pat glared at him. "How long have you been standing there?"

Ned held up his hands. "I never assumed the danger was in the water, so I kept my eyes on the forest," he promised her.

"I'm sure..." she mumbled with her scowl still on her face.

"What about a castle?" Fred asked the old man.

Ned waved off Fred's question. "Oh, it's nothing. We were merely invited to Lord Tramadore's castle for a banquet and entertainment. His family has ruled over Tramadore since its founding, hence the identical names."

"M-must you tell him e-everything?" Pat chattered out.

"You should finish your bath, my dear Pat, before you catch your death of cold," Ned scolded.

Her face heated up so that Ned wondered it didn't boil the water. "I can't because you two idiots are standing beside my clothes!"

Ned slipped a puzzled expression onto his face until he noticed the pile close to Fred. "Oh, these are your clothes, are they?"

"You know damn well they are, now get away, both of you!" Pat hissed back.

Ned pulled at his beard and glanced between the two youngsters. "You know, I expect Lord Tramadore will serve up a very great feast at every meal." Fred salivated at the thought of a feast put on by a great lord, but he snapped himself to attention and scurried out of there. Ned chuckled at the boy's hasty retreat and turned back to Pat. "If we're to abandon the boy in Tramadore, shouldn't we have the decency to make sure he's well fed before we part?"

Pat scowled at him. "I know what you're g-getting at, and the answer is no. He wasn't invited to the c-castle, and he wouldn't belong there."

"Oh, I don't know," Ned mused as he glanced down at her clean clothes. "He's not a bad looking fellow. A few nice clothes, a good bath, and he'll look the part of a prince."

"I said no, now l-leave so I can get out of here," she ordered. Ned promptly turned and sat down atop her clothes and towel. Her mouth dropped open. "What in the world are you d-doing? Get off those and r-return to the enclosure! I demand it!"

"I want only this last concession," he asked of her. His voice was soft, almost pleading. "Let the boy come with us to Tramadore Castle, and then we can be rid of him afterwords."

Pat sighed and shivered; she wrapped her arms around herself, but her skin was too chilled to warm up with her cold hands. "F-fine, but after the castle he's gone."

Ned smiled, stood up and gave a bow at the waist. "I will have a warm breakfast when you return to the campsite."

"You'd better," she grumbled.

At his retreating back Pat eagerly raised herself from the water. Ned paused and turned back, forcing her to dunk herself back into the freezing icicle river. "Oh, and don't forget to relinquish your armor to me. We wouldn't want others to know you for who you really are."

Pat scowled at him. "I know, now leave!"

Ned scurried off back to the campsite and Fred; the boy remained unaware of this deal, but he still hoped to have a taste of the hinted-at feasts. His hopes rose when, after breakfast, Ned advised him to clean his appearance. "Why would I do that?" Fred asked him as they sat around the warm fire.

Ned leaned forward on his staff and gave a wink. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Pat rolled her eyes, but had to hide a smile when Fred bumbled about to gather a towel and rush down to the water. When he'd gone she turned to Ned. "Are you sure you're not setting him up for disappointment? Lord Tramadore is generous with his hospitality, but he is very protective of his chair."

Ned waved off her concerns with a shake of his head. "I foresee no problems with Lord Tramadore, and as for his chair, perhaps Fred here can amuse the company by trying to sit in it." Ned looked at Pat with a twinkle in his eyes. "Perhaps you want to try your hand at sitting in the chair?"

Pat frowned and looked away. "Maybe, if I'm invited to do so," she replied.

Fred returned in short order, his body clean but his clothes still filthy from the first encounter with the tree monsters. Ned wasn't worried. "We'll get you a new set at Tramadore."

"It seems we're spending more gold on his wardrobe than on food," Pat grumbled.

A short time later the companions set off down the muddy road. The sky that day was clear, and the sun hung over them like a bright flame and warmed their body and spirits. Fred watched for this town called Tramadore, and by midday he noticed a strange mountain off in the near distance. Ned noticed the boy's gaze focused on the towering object in the sky. "Have you never seen a castle before, not even in pictures?" he asked the lad.

Fred blinked and glanced between Ned and the gray thing in the sky. "Is that what it is?"

"Aye, and a very grand one to match with the city," Ned replied.

"City? I thought Tramadore was another town," Fred wondered.

Pat rolled her eyes and glanced back at the men; she led the way. "Tramadore is the largest city in Ralcott."

Fred blinked. "What's Ralcott?"

The girl stopped and stomped her foot on the ground. "This is Ralcott. Everything we've seen is in Ralcott. It's one of the regions close to Sterning, the most important province in all the world." Fred stared at her with all the ignorance he could muster. She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Haven't you heard of any of these things?"

"Nope," was his reply.

Ned laughed and herded them onward. "The world is a very large place, my dear Fred. People like to split it up into regions to better remember where they've been, where they are and where they're going." He gestured to the tower. "That is the peak of Tramadore Castle, which lies at the top of the city of Tramadore in the region of Ralcott."

"Have they no other name for places around this city of Tramadore?" Fred wondered.

"Well, the Tramadore family was also a like of conceited men, so no," Ned replied. "If they could, the family would change the region to their name."

"You shouldn't speak ill of Lord Tramadore," Pat scolded him. "He's a gentleman and a good knight."

Ned smiled and bowed his head. "I accept the reprimand. Lord Tramadore is indeed a good man, and I'm sure he'll show his goodness by stuffing us all full of food and giving us a fine bit of entertainment."

Fred was nervous and excited for their arrival, and when they rounded a bend he received his first full view of the city. Tramadore lay with its back to a large, stony, gray mountain, and its front faced a few small, green fields separated by thin strands of trees that followed the winding river. The river itself ran away from the city, for the source of its water emerged from those same gray stones.

The city was a vast maze of thirty thousand people packed behind a single gate and a fifteen foot thick, twenty foot high stone wall that ran around either side of the front until the walls met the mountain at the rear. There was a moat in front of the single gate, made by diverting the river around the front of the walls. Above the walls the city rose in steppes, each taller than the last and closer to the mountain. The castle itself was at the very peak, and its walls were carved from the very stone of the mountain. Colorful banners flew from the tops of the gray towers and from most every house, and music drifted over the walls and spilled out onto the fields.

Fred didn't realize he'd stopped until Pat yelled back at him. "Come on. We're a day late as it is."

Fred hurried forward and the companions reached the moat. The bridge was down and a steady procession of people walked over the large boards to pass under the gate. Knights decked out in full regalia stood beneath the archway and smiled at those who passed. They passed inside and were met with a lively atmosphere of dancers and shoppers. The gate opened up to a wide, circular marketplace with big and small stalls around the outer edge. A stage stood in the middle of the marketplace, and on that was a band playing a merry jig while dancers performed in front of the platform.

Ned sidled up close to Fred and nodded at the area. "They call this the Square. For the life of me I still can't figure out why."

Pat glanced around the crowd, but her short stature meant even on her tiptoes she couldn't see above most heads. "Which way is it to the castle?" she asked Ned.

The old man pulled at his beard, and looked from left to right. "I think perhaps we head up the steepest road and we'll find our way there in good time. For now, let's see what we can get for this boy's clothes."

CHAPTER 10

Ned bought for Fred clothes of an even finer quality than what they'd bought at the last town. Fred felt as fine as a prince, and he noticed Pat stared at him often, and with a glint of admiration in her eyes. A new cloak was also bought for Pat, and then they were off to the castle. Each city steppe was accessed from above and beneath by a single road that wound its way along the streets. Between each steppe was a ramp, and the ramps grew steeper the higher the traveler climbed. By the time the companions stood before the castle they were exhausted.

"Perhaps next time we should hire a cart," Pat conceded.

Ned wheezed and shook his head. "None are allowed in the city during the Festival."

"Festival?" Fred repeated.

Ned nodded back where they'd come, and Fred followed his pointing to the celebrations below. "It's the Festival of the Mountain. Every autumn they celebrate the god of the mountain's birth so he will protect them for another year."

"Superstition..." Pat muttered. "Their well-trained army keeps them safe better than any fabled mountain god."

Ned leaned on his staff and chuckled. "You may think so, but they've been performing the festival for four hundred years and have yet to be taken by an enemy. I'd say that's a better record than any army, and much more fun."

The old man toddled off ahead of the others and glanced at their surroundings. The castle was set back from the road, which created an open area between itself and the lower steppe. The only defense was the high walls around the castle; if the enemies made it that high then the rest of the city was lost and there would be little hope for those within the castle. A pair of tall, wooden doors led into an inner courtyard, and these were wide open. Inside were rows of tables piled high with good food; Fred drooled at the feast and Pat rolled her eyes.

City-folk lined up with plates and took their share from the tables while guards looked on to intercede in fights. A very well-dressed man walked among the people and spoke with everyone he met, shaking hands and smiling at them. The stranger happened to glance through the gates and noticed the three standing outside. His face brightened and he stepped out to greet them.

"Edwin, you old coot!" he greeted Ned. The stranger wrapped his arms around Ned in a bone-crushing hug.

Pat stifled a snort but Fred was confused. Ned separated himself from the other gentleman and put a finger to his lips. "It's Ned now, old friend."

The man caught something in Ned's eyes and the smile slipped from his face; he nodded. "I see, sorry about that, Ned. I guess with all the ale I've drunk it slipped my mind. And speaking of ale-" The man slung an arm around Ned's shoulders and turned them toward the gates. "-how about a gallon or two, for old time's sake?"

Ned smiled. "Have you forgotten again why I'm here? Why
we're
here?" Ned nodded over his shoulder and the man followed his gaze; his eyes fell on Pat, who bowed.

"Oh!" the man exclaimed. He dropped his arm and hurried over to Pat, where he took her hand and kissed it. "My apologies, my dear lady. You must forgive a drunken old fool and his poor memory."

"There's nothing to forgive," she replied. Fred was glad to see Pat looked as confused over this man as he.

The stranger caught her blank stare. "Ah yes, but where are my manners. I am Lord Tramadore, my lady, and ever at your service."

Pat smiled. "Well, Lord Tramadore, if you're at my service then I demand you call me by my name. It's Pat."

Lord Tramadore glanced up into her face, and nodded. "Very well, Pat. I hope I will make your stay here very comfortable."

"I'm sure you will," she answered him.

Ned stepped over and put his hand on Fred's shoulder. "And this is Fred, a boy we managed to pick up."