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Authors Notes: First story on this site, and my first big attempt at writing fantasy. I hope you like it.
Critiques are welcome.
Discovery
Merket leaned forward in his saddle, as his horse galloped along the road. He’d been traveling all day and his horse was hot and tired from the harsh use. If he didn’t ease up soon the mare would die from exhaustion, but it was only a little further till he reached Red Harbour and safety.
The Guild would already know that the Merle Alliance planned to attack the free city. Unfortunately only Merket knew their exact battle plans, the pigeons he sent could only carry a small note. So Merket had to stay ahead of the trackers that were following him. He’d already left two horses dead behind him; if this one fell, all hope would be lost.
As he rode on, he didn’t notice one of his books, hastily thrown into his pack fall to the ground
He walked just a little further down the road until he found a small clearing he knew about close to the Dark Current River. Walking down the steep slope he dumped the warm water from his flask and refilled it with the cool, mud coloured river water. Most people didn’t like the taste of the water, but he’d drank worse in his time, and at least this was cold. He cleared a few branches away from under one of the small trees that lined the river, and closed his eyes, trying not to think about his stomach. His last job had been four days ago, helping a nameless river hamlet with the annual fishing harvest. He’d been paid well, but they couldn’t spare much food. So with his purse full his stomach was empty. A nasty little drought had hit the area. People had food, along this river they’d always have some water to grow things. Unfortunately they didn’t have enough to share for the small amount of money he could offer.
Such was life for a free labourer he thought, freedom to move when times got tough. Plenty of interesting things to see as well, but no times of plenty for him. Just lean times and hungry times. Fortunately things were looking up. At Red Harbour he could join up with one of the fishing vessels. Dangerous work, but never out for more then a week or two, plenty of food as long as there was a catch, and pirates seldom bothered with fishermen. There had been the one time when pirates had demanded a quarter of the catch, and taken the captains daughter, but they had left everyone else alone.
Joining up with a fishing boat was definitely the way to last out the drought. Of course he’d have to quit when winter came about. No amount of money could get him onto a ship during the winter. But then he could work at a bar, or as a private guard, or maybe join a caravan. He let his thoughts roam trying to decide what job he’d like to do most, until he decided it was time to pray.
He took a wooden cup from his ragged pack, filled it with river water and walked back to the road. Looking up at Hesh, he raised the cup to it in his left hand, and put a coin in the palm of his right hand.
“Hesh, watcher of travellers,” he began. “I invite you to drink from my cup. I wish to give you my coin if you are needy. May we both travel far and safely. May we meet again in the morrow.”
He held the position for a few moments afterwards, in case Hesh wished to take his offering. Martin had never been rewarded in that way, but some people he had met told him how Hesh had drank their water, eaten their food, or taken their coin. Good luck had followed them for the rest of the season. Martin didn’t think Hesh would accept his offering today though. His luck didn’t need changing, and he had only given the simplest prayer. But it was a good idea to keep the God’s eyes on him, at least the good ones.
Going back to the river, he washed the cup out, and returned the coin to its purse. He thrust his head into the river, refreshing himself before he began walking again. Scrubbing his long hair, and short beard, he tried to dislodge the lice he had picked up in the last few days. He’d have to buy some cleaning powder in Red Harbour, it would cut deeply into his money, but it was better then itching.
As he shook the water from his face he heard hoof beats coming down the road, fast. Galloping horses usually meant trouble, too often it was some rich young person showing off. If they saw a free man walking alone they could become vicious. It could also be someone fleeing brigands, or soldiers. Neither one would look favourably on a lone traveller. Martin grabbed his pack and ducked into some bushes. He wished his walking staff hadn’t gotten dry rot two days ago. A weapon would have been nice, instead he’d have to run if someone found him.
A horseman rode past without even a glance. Martin allowed himself to breathe, but he stayed hidden. It could just be messenger, or he was being chased. If the man was being chased, the persuers might decide to ask Martin if he saw anything. That was a possibility he didn’t want to risk. He waited, and listened.
A farmer leaning against a fence post let out a cry and ran into the field. Martin looked around to see what was going on and for a place to hide. Horsemen were trotting up the road. Sunlight flashed off of their chain mail. The leader pointed at Martin and went into a gallop. Martin thought about jumping over the fence and running, but the horsemen could jump it easily and would likely catch him. Instead he went to the side of the road, removed his cap and looked at the road.
“You there!” the lead horseman yelled at him. “Have you seen any horsemen on this road?”
“Yes sir,” Martin said quickly. “A single rider on a brown horse galloping along. I saw him about an hour ago two miles back, sir,” maybe if he told them everything he knew they’d leave him alone.
“Gods be damned, we’ve lost him!” the soldier yelled. “How did his horse look?”
“Pardon sir?” Martin asked.
“Did it look tired, limping, anything like that?” the soldier demanded
“I didn’t get a good look at it sir. I’m sorry I was washing my head in the river, sir,” he cringed and ducked his head.
The soldier sighed. He reached into his riding pouch and took out a small bun. “You seem smart, even able to tell time. If you can tell me anything useful I’ll give you this in payment. You look hungry enough.”
Martins’ mouth watered, and he wracked his brain, “It did seem like the horse had some lathering on its arse. Its all I can tell you sir, honest.”
“We might be able to catch it, if he’s using it that badly,” the soldier said to his companions. He ripped the bun in half and tossed one piece to Martin.
“Thank you sir!” Martin said gratefully, as the soldiers rode away. He slowly munched on the bun as he started back down the road. He also gave a wave to the moon in thanks as he ate.
Licking his fingers, he looked back at the ground wishing the soldier had given him the entire bun. He knew he shouldn’t be greedy, but he hadn’t eaten since noon the day before. At least the city was close, he could eat well for supper. He kicked a stone into some weeds.
He stopped, the stone had hit something soft. Walking over he saw it was a book. He picked it up and looked through the pages. The paper was so white it must be new; the cover felt oily, but nothing came off on his hands. Smiling he saw most of the pages were only half covered in writing, and at least thirty pages at the back were blank. If he found the right dealer he could triple the money he had in his pouch easily. Maybe even make five times as much. He wondered what it was about, he understood most of the numbers, but since he couldn’t read it was gibberish to him.
He placed the book in his pack, padded and hidden by his spare shirt and pants. As long as the gate guards didn’t look too closely he should be able to get it past them. The paper was nice enough most guards would confiscate it for themselves, or think he stole it. Best not to let that happen. Whistling once more, he promised to make a proper offering to Hesh once he reached a church.
