Chapter 2: The Journey Continues

They approached the settlement from the Southwest along a ridge above the town. From this vantage point they could survey the area for miles around. The terrain was rocky where they were, but lower down there were tended fields that lay fallow after giving their bounty earlier in the year. The main road continued away from the village and toward the forest. A smaller path that led to the gates of the settlement. Small huts dotted the landscape, the homes of the farmers that tended the fields. With no sign of troops and no movement other than a few carts, they started down the ridge.

Archer's Point was the largest settlement in the area. It grew up around an ancient outpost. The crumbling towers and the ancient wall were the only sign of a time when it was a wilderness outpost of the kingdom. Long ago abandoned by the troops that built it, now it housed the only village within 3 days ride. Built up inside the walls were shops and an inn. Aldren was hoping to be relieved of some of the burden they carried in exchange for much needed supplies and perhaps some coin.

They picked their way carefully down the slope. There was a barely discernable path that was really little more than an animal trail, but was better than slipping on the loose rock on each side of them. Once down, they rode side by side through the tall brown grasses.

Aldren once again stole a glance at his partner. Her fine features were highlighted in the mid mornings sun. She was beautiful and carried herself with a confidence that was astounding considering just a few weeks ago she had been near death. Her physical wounds had healed. The wounds in her mind would take longer, if they ever healed at all.

His mind shifted toward the present and specifically the village ahead. He was wary of the small villages toward the northern part of the kingdom. He was not sure how far the influence of the priests extended. Were these people friendly to the kindred? If they weren't, did they want to fight their way out of the village? These thoughts were racing in his head as they moved down the main road.

As they approached the fork in the road, Ameni voiced the concerns that Aldren had been thinking. "I think that you might better go in alone. We do not know how the townspeople would react to having an elf come riding in."

Aldren sighed. "You are probably right. It just galls me that you cannot ride in. I will get what we need and feel out the folk. You can wait just off the road about a mile past."

They were at the fork in the road. Ameni continued on leading the packhorse they had chosen, while Aldren veered off toward the gate with the other three loaded with the excess.

He entered the town as casual as possible, but it was a lost cause. Even trying to blend in, a large man in leather and mail leading three horses that were piled with weapons was not a normal sight. Children and animals shared the space within the open areas, darting between the buildings and the adults that were moving about their business. The adults would stop and stare as he approached, muttering among themselves in hushed tones. His concerns were confirmed when he spotted the sign mounted on one of the broken turrets that indicated a priest of the upstart Gods resided here.

Aldren reigned in at a shop that looked as though it was the local tavern. He knew this would be a place to get information about where he could sell his wares as well as getting a feel for the general attitudes of the populace. As he dismounted, a group of children gathered around to stare. One older child was toward the back of the pack, trying to be a part of the group, but obviously was not accepted as part of their core. Aldren looked at this child and spotted the signs of elvish blood in his background. That would be enough of a reason for his being outcast, at least in the south. Aldren pointed to him and gestured for him to come forward. "What is your name?"

"Mirgan, sir"

"Ahh a man with courtly manners. Aldren then looked him up and down. "How old are you then young Mirgan?"

"I have 14 winters sir." The young man drew himself up to his full height.

"That many eh? Would you watch my horses and keep them safe?" He produced 5 coppers from his belt pouch. "I will pay you fairly."

Mirgan's eyes lit up at the sight of the coins, but he kept his mannerisms in line with his duties. "That I will sir. They will be safe or my life will be forfeit."

Aldren looked the young man up and down. "You are not carrying any weapon. Any guard needs a weapon." He then reached into one of the blankets and pulled out a short sword. For a full-grown man it would have been not much more than a large dagger, but it fit the young man's stature well.

Mirgan hefted the blade feeling it's balance as he had seen the men in the village do. He broke into a big smile, and then sobered. "All will be as you left it on your return."

With a smile Aldren turned to the open doorway and entered the tavern. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the interior, he could see it was in many ways the same as other inns and taverns throughout the kingdom. The open beam ceiling was blackened with the soot from the candles and the fireplace that was on the far wall. A few long tables that were scarred from knives and rough use. The floor was rough planking with gaps along the edges. The man behind the counter was Aldren's height but larger in girth. His face showed the fights that he had broken up and the ruffians he had tossed from his establishment. His voice was gruff but his manner was pleasant enough when he asked Aldren his preference.

Ordering a mug of ale, he wet his thirst then asked the bartender if there was a merchant in town that would be interested in trading some articles that he had picked up from the trail. The man directed him to a building across the courtyard. Finishing his ale, Aldren strode out into the daylight to see a rather strange site.

It seemed that Mirgan took his vow to keep Aldren's possessions safe. Standing with his feet braced, the boy held two men at bay. There was a crowd starting to form laughing at the two for being wary of the boy. The marks on their arms, and the slice in one of their tunics demonstrated that they had every right to be cautious. He could see the sword in Mirgan's small hand tremble in fear and rage.

Aldren walked up beside the boy and drew his own sword. The two would-be thieves decided the odds were no longer in their favor and left. Aldren sheathed his blade and put his hand on Mirgan's shoulder. The boy lowered his sword and still trembling, knelt on the ground. Mirgan finally looked up. "Thank you sir. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold them off."

"Mirgan, you showed more courage and honor than you would find in the courts of the King. The odds were against you and you stood firm. No man could ask for more than that."

Those words seemed to give the boy strength. He stood, once again tall and proud. The two untied the horses and headed to the shop that the tavern owner recommended.

The shopkeeper had come out to see what the commotion in the courtyard was. Aldren approached and greeted the man. He was short but wide, with a jolly face that belied the sharp wit of a businessman. Aldren asked if he was interested in some barter for some weapons and goods. As the load was revealed, he could tell the man was itching to know where he came across such a horde, but knew enough not to ask. The two set to bargaining, with Mirgan keenly watching the proceedings. When the shopkeeper made some excuse about the cost of an item, the boy rolled his eyes. Aldren caught the movement and pressed the point. The shopkeeper relented and a deal was struck for all but the ponies.

When all was done and they had sealed the deal, he had traded for all the supplies they could use, 15 gold coins of the realm, and an extra something for his new partner. Mirgan beamed in pride when Aldren handed him a new cloak and scabbard for the short sword.

"A man needs a good scabbard for his sword." Aldren replied to the boy's question. "Now you will join me in a meal before I continue on my journey." Talk of the earlier incident had spread through the village and they were greeted with stares and whispers that, following Aldren's example, Mirgan ignored. His shorter legs were stretching to keep up with Aldren, but his step was proud.

The happiness Mirgan was feeling was flattened when they reached the inn at the edge of town. The owner refused to allow Mirgan to enter.

"You can come in, but I won't allow a worthless half breed in my place. I don't want them to disgrace my establishment!"

Once again, Aldren's temper almost got him in trouble. " This boy... No, this man has served me above and beyond any duty that I had laid upon him today. He has shown more courage and honor in a few hours than you will in your entire miserable life. Perhaps you had better re-think your position before I let my companion run you through."

Mirgan just looked disgusted at the skinny little man. "Lord Aldren, sir? I know of a place that we will be more than welcome. He isn't worth the trouble."

Aldren looked at him and nodded. With one more black stare at the innkeeper, he turned and strode away, letting Mirgan lead him to the location he preferred. They moved through the gate and immediately turned to the left coming to a halt at one of the small huts just outside the wall. A beautiful woman appeared at the door her simple dress showing the smudging of flour from her day's labor. A little older than Aldren in actual years, her pretty face showed the concerns and worry of someone much more advanced in age.

Mirgan approached her. "Mother, this man was turned away from the inn because of me and hasn't eaten. Can we spare enough for him a meal?" The woman looked at her son in surprise. His serious tone and the formality of his words shocked her more than the stranger that stood behind him.

"Of course, we always have enough to share with a traveler."

Aldren turned to one of the packhorses pulled out a small bundle. "Only if you will allow me to contribute to the meal." He handed her a bundle that contained cured meat. She took the package and ducked back into the house, motioning them to follow. The inside of the building was sparse but clean and tidy. A fire burned in the hearth over which a pot was heating, its cover dancing as the contents bubbled away inside. The smell of a stew filled the room and Aldren realized that he was indeed hungry.

The men sat across from one another on low benches as the woman ladled the stew into bowls. Combined with the coarse bread she had made earlier it was a wonderful meal. As they ate Mirgan gave her the account of what had happened in the town. Dulca, for that was the woman's name, listened to the tale her son told with the air of disbelief. She looked at Aldren for conformation.

"What he has told you is indeed true my lady." He said. "This young man proved that he is honest and worthy of the trust I placed on him. You have taught him well."

Dulca looked at her son who was beaming at the praise. It was as though she was seeing him in a new light. He had suddenly grown from the little boy playing in the dirt to the young man who sat at the table. She got a sad look on her face as she realized that he was now of the age to make his mark in the world.

Aldren then took his leave from the woman. Ameni was waiting on the road for him and he was anxious to meet up with her again. Mirgan had already gone out to bring his horses to the door. As he started out his ears caught the sound of many feet moving along the road.

Looking out, he saw a mob of about 15 men heading towards the hut. In the forefront was the innkeeper and what had to be the priest of the village. Aldren cautioned Dulca to stay inside and then loosened his sword in its scabbard.

Mirgan also saw the crowd and stood in front of the horses, his new scabbard hanging from around his waist. When the crowd got close enough the innkeeper started shouting about how Mirgan had threatened him, and that he wanted the boy punished for such things. Apparently the crowd had come along to participate in the fun.

Mirgan stood his ground. "I did nothing wrong. In fact, I asked my lord Aldren not to run him through, though he deserved it."

The priest then spoke. "We will not abide any sort of talk from such as you. A public beating will teach you to keep your lying tongue in your head." He then reached down to grab Mirgan only to be met with the point of a sword.

"I will not be beaten because of the lying words of some skinny little man." The priest reached again to grab him and Mirgan laid open his forearm. The priest screamed in pain and ordered the mob to seize the half-breed.

Before anyone could get close enough to touch the boy, Aldren stepped out with his own sword in his hand. "You touch this boy, and your blood will be soaking the ground." His eyes were blazing. The crowd hesitated briefly, but the lust for blood overcame any caution and they moved in.

Aldren took the first one with an upward slice that left the man on the ground holding his organs in his hands. He parried the blow aimed for his neck, and then decapitated his opponent. Another lost his sword arm, and a fourth was run through and fell back into the dirt, his heart pierced. Aldren stole a glance to his left and saw that Mirgan had already dispatched one attacker and was working on another.

The fight ended quickly when the mob realized that their numbers were falling without the results they had anticipated. They backed off, carefully watching the defenders, pulling the bodies of the dead and wounded with them.

Dulca came out of the hut and ran to her son. She checked him for wounds, but found that he only had a small cut on his scalp. The blood that covered him was from his foes. Aldren watched the retreating crowd, then turned back to Mirgan. The boy was looking at him and the fire in his eyes was startling in it's intensity. The warrior that had been under the surface was unleashed. Little did he know it was the same look that he bore as a young man.

Aldren suggested that the young man go and wash the blood off. Mirgan was still shaky, but moved toward the small barrel at the side of the house. Dulca looked at the warrior that was in front of her.

"Lord, I fear that my son's life will now be forfeit here, as well as my own. We must go to my brother, but he lives in a town called Ramas and that is four days ride."

"In which direction does this town lie?"

"North and East of here."

"I am sure that you can ride with us for that time, since my companion and I are heading that way. Pack only what you need and we will wait for you on the main road."

Mirgan came up about this time. The thought that he had killed someone, and that he could have been killed had set in on him. He knelt down on the ground and started to shake violently. Aldren gave him a few minutes then bent down to touch his shoulder.

"Mirgan, you did well today. You did what you had to do to protect yourself and your mother. The world is filled with dangers now, especially for ones such as us. Your mother has asked to go to her brother. What you need to do now is to help her get what you must have and then leave. We will wait for you on the main road."

The young warrior stood and wiped the moisture from his eyes. He knew that Aldren was right and to stay here would mean death for him and his mother. Aldren left the spare horse for them and he moved out across the fields to meet his companion.

Ameni was sitting on a boulder between two trees awaiting his arrival. He almost missed seeing her until she gave a soft call to him. She signaled him into the grove and he made his way into the brush.

As he dismounted, she took note of the blood that was still fresh on his mail. He gave her a quick account of what had happened and let her know that they would have a couple of traveling companions for a few days. She readily agreed to the change of plans. They broke out some of the fresh rations and settled down to wait for the new refugees to show up.

Within an hour, they heard the sound of three horses moving along the road. Aldren stepped out to the edge of the trees and greeted Mirgan and his mother. They both had dressed for traveling and carried what looked to be the barest of possessions on the third horse. He led them back to the clearing to meet Ameni.

Ameni took stock of the two strangers. Both were dressed in rough woolen cloaks hiding their tunics. The woman appeared to be still young for having a child the age of the one riding next to her. Her golden hair was curled in ringlets that hung loosely around her face. Blue eyes that held the fear of the day's events. The cloak could not hide the fullness of her figure though. Her large breasts were evident and the tight leggings she wore showed that her legs were still shapely though they did not carry the muscle tone that was evident in Ameni's own. She had to wonder in the back of her mind if Aldren had thoughts of bedding this woman.

The young man who rode at her side was definitely half-elven. The characteristics of the kindred were prominent in his face. He had the sadness in his eyes of one who had just had to kill for the first time. At his side was the sword Aldren had given him.

She noticed all of this in the time it took for them to stop and dismount. As soon as they were on the ground, Aldren made the introductions. Mirgan was speechless staring at the elf maiden. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It took him a few seconds to realize that she was speaking to him in greeting. Remembering something that his late father had taught him, he brought his arm across his chest in the greeting of the kindred. It was clumsy, but he did it with such seriousness that there was no doubt about his sincerity. Ameni hid her smile and returned the salute. "Hail fellow warrior and friend." She spoke in Elvish.

Mirgan was startled at hearing the language. It sounded like the words were wound around all the living creatures in the world. It seemed to touch something deep within his soul. He had heard his father speak it only a few times, and it stirred the memories long past. Finally he was able to speak. "Forgive me my lady. I do not understand the speech of the kindred. My father never taught me."

Aldren spoke up to relieve his embarrassment. "What Ameni said was the formal greeting that one elf warrior gives to another when they meet. She is acknowledging your status as a man and a warrior."

At this, Mirgan smiled. This beautiful woman considered him a man, not some little boy. He drew up to his full height that was still less than the elf in front of him. "My Lady, You have my gratitude for allowing us to travel with you and the Lord Aldren. May our journey be swift and free of danger."

Ameni smiled down at the young man. His speech and mannerisms were more for the courts of kings, not some little village. But his mannerisms were stiff. She decided to put him more at ease. " I appreciate the fine manners that you possess, but on the road like we are, you may call me Ameni. Aldren wasn't actually a Lord of the lands; rather he was a captain of the King's guard. You may find that during a fight, it is easier to shout just a name without the title."

Aldren then asked the young man to help with the setting up of the camp. Mirgan moved off to get some wood for a fire. Ameni and Dulca prepared a meal from the supplies that had been acquired earlier. They soon settled down around the fire. Dulca told of her marriage to Mirgan's father, an elf of the Wood clan. They had lived in harmony near his father's settlement for a while, moving when their only child was born. He had been killed and She and Mirgan survived from her skills as a healer and a small plot of land. The priest had arrived and established himself as the authority in the town and that is when the trouble had started for Mirgan. His appearance was much like his father's and he was shunned then persecuted by the priest and his followers. She had been in fear for him for some time and today was the final straw.

The rest of the conversation was of the adventures of the two companions to date. During a lull in the conversation, Mirgan asked Aldren about how he had survived being half-elven.

"It was no problem for most of my childhood." he explained. "It wasn't until the new cult took power that things started going bad. I had taken some taunts when they first started growing, but I was a big child and my father being in the guards was a help. Also my mother was well respected as being a wise woman and a healer. She taught me much of her magic, but certain things she refused to even speak of. Once the old king was gone and his son in power, the cult wormed its way into the court. I had planned to leave, but it happened suddenly when the priests ordered someone very close to me killed for disobeying them. I went into a rage and slew four priests and several more of their followers. I grabbed what I could and took off. I am sure there is a price on my head, but no one has lived long enough to claim it."

There was more talk, but soon they bedded down for the night. Aldren took the first watch of the night waking Ameni several hours later. Then he lay down to sleep.

It was just before moonset when Ameni touched his shoulder to awaken him. He was instantly awake. She touched her finger to her lips urging him to be quiet. "We have visitors." She whispered in his ear. He slipped his sword into the scabbard and rose up. Ameni was urging the other two up and to slip quietly into the bushes.