Erath - Chapter 10

“Hey you!” a voice shouted from behind.
Erath didn’t bother turning around. Shoving another body out of the way, he made his way to the door quickly.
“Stop! You still have to pay your tab!”
Finally stopping at the door, Erath turned around slowly. The spherical bald innkeeper bustled up to him, his face redder than usual with indignation. He held aloft a long wooden spoon, dripping with stew from the kitchen. At last he reached Erath.
“You did not pay for that meal, and I intend to get it from you,” he said, anger spicing his voice.
“I’ll be darned if I give it to you,” he retorted.
“Don’t use language at my inn, lad!” the owner nearly roared. “Just pay your bill and get out of here.”
“The only thing I’m giving you is this,” Erath swung a clenched fist into the innkeeper’s prodigious girth, following it up with a swing to the nose. The man keeled over, moaning as Erath made his escape out the tavern. He couldn’t have been a stone’s throw away before he heard a bellowing noise from behind him.
“After him, boys! That’s the one!”
Erath swiveled his head around. Three lanky men were running after him, two with clubs, and the third with a sharp, leather-making tool. All were fast runners. Erath doubled his speed, racing through the crowded town. Very soon though, his breath ran short and his legs cramped from the sprinting. He managed to get out of the town, but there was no place to hide. The road led on a broad plain devoid of trees, and miles away loomed the mountains.
Stopping, Erath doubled over, hands on his knees, panting. Weariness flooded his consciousness. Rising to his full height, he turned to where the town’s gates were. At once he could see the three men, still running hard, but behind him were at least a dozen other men. Apparently the innkeeper was a very popular man, and the incident he made at the tavern upset several men of the town.
He picked up his weary feet and began to run again. The scorching heat drew sweat from his body and sapped the little strength he had left. A sudden pain jabbed him in the shoulder and he went sprawling. At once he felt a heavy weight on his back, then a voice crying out.
“I have him! Come quickly before he gets away!”
Erath struggled, but his attacker didn’t budge. Just above his shoulder blade, he could feel something running and sticking to his tunic. Once again he felt the sickening nausea of capture and potential death approaching. Grunting heavily, he forced his shoulders up, not caring about the wound. The man above him started with a cry, but before Erath could use the man’s surprise against him, he felt another shock, but only in his other shoulder.
“Ah!” he cried aloud and fell back on his face.
“Is this the lad?”
Erath could hear another voice from behind him. The other men were near. He turned his face to one side and could see a pair of boots. He exhaled loudly, admitting defeat.
“Yes. What do you want to do with him?” came his attacker’s rasping voice.
“Let him stand on his own feet,” the other commanded.
“Yessir.”
The weight lifted from Erath’s back. Two strong hands gripped his shoulders and yanked him to his feet. He grimaced as the hands grasped his wounds, but refused to cry out. Immediately, he felt lightheaded and wavered as if about to fall, but the two men on both sides grabbed his arms and held him in place. He raised his head, looking at the great man before him straight in the face. Although he tried to appear unhurt and defiant, he could tell the other men could see he really was the opposite.
The huge man in front of him took another step closer, bending his head a little to be on a level with Erath’s. “You have stolen food from Glutundon, and he demands it back. Will you give it to him?”
“And if I don’t?” Erath asked haughtily.
“I and these men will take it from you by force.”
Erath stole a glance around him. Several men, all wiry with muscles rippling up and down their arms, surrounded him. Looking back at their leader, he spat at his feet. “I have nothing to say to you,” he snarled.
At once a man ran at him, his bloodied leather tool upraised. Erath darted away and swung his fist into the man’s stomach, making him double over. That seemed to be the signal for the others to attack. Blows were showered on Erath, but he refused to give in. He continued to fight, an unarmed lad against a dozen armed, seasoned men. Suddenly a knife was thrust into his thigh as if out of nowhere. Erath gave a loud cry of pain and fell, clutching the hilt. As soon as he was on the ground, dozens of feet started kicking his body. He looked up as a cudgel came hurtling toward him. Not knowing what else to do, Erath turned his head to the side and squeezed his eyes shut. The blow sent showers of sparking light into his head. Darkness flooded his senses and he stopped moving.

* * * * *

“Ellyn, stop being so paranoid.” Gavin rolled his eyes at his twin. “Just because there was a fight at the inn a couple hours ago doesn’t mean we’ll meet up with that man. And if we do,” he patted the young man on the shoulder beside him, “Brynn will take care of him.”
Ellyn chuckled. “I think you’re the one who’s being paranoid,” she retorted good-naturedly. “I only said that once as we were leaving, and you’re still going on about it.”
Brynn sighed. They had been going at it for twenty minutes now. He was walking in between the twins to keep Ellyn from roughing up her docile twin, but he could not stop her talking. Although he liked Gavin immensely, he was beginning to tire of their constant bickering.
“Those beds were really uncomfortable, don’t you think?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject.
“Yes,” Gavin agreed heartily, glad for the change, and rubbing his shoulder. “I am sore all over.”
Ellyn shrugged. “I was really tired so I fell asleep pretty quickly. I didn’t notice anything about them.”
“I usually sleep well anywhere,” Brynn commented, “but that bed was harder than most rocks I have slept on during hunts.”
The three of them had finally left the little bustling town and had made their way a little down the road. Before them was a wide expanse of plain, brown and cracked by the recent drought. Ditches lined the roads, apparently to drain them of water when it rained. But now they were filled with dust and debris from travelers; no sign of water anywhere near them. Far away in the distance, the purple mountains shot up from the ground, their peaks so high they looked as if they would soon scrape the blue expanse above them. Thin wisps of clouds hung thousands of feet above them, giving what little shade they could to the three travelers and baggage pony. Nearly a hundred yards away though were a band of men.
Ellyn grabbed her twin’s sleeve. “I told you,” she whispered, “they are bandits around here!”
Gavin didn’t reply. As the men came closer, he noticed they were all armed … and that their weapons had blood on them. He forced himself to go on though.
Soon enough, the men passed them and went back into the village.
After they had been in the town a while, Gavin shielded his eyes with his hand. “Do you see any place farther out where we could rest for the night?”
“You’re already thinking about stopping?” Ellyn asked, leaning over to see her twin around Brynn.
Brynn’s keen eyes spotted a small copse several miles away. He pointed in its direction. “If we go far enough we can reach those trees over there and spend the night.”
Ellyn drifted and began walking nearer to the side of the road.
Tapping Brynn on the shoulder, Gavin gave him the reigns to the pony with one hand and held his finger to his lips with the other. Then, slipping around Brynn with a sly smile playing on his lips, Gavin edged over to Ellyn who was gazing at the vast flatness around her. He walked past her, tripping her with his foot as he went.
Startled, Ellyn gave a little cry and fell down, rolling off the road and down the small incline to the ditch below. She grunted as she landed on her stomach and pushed herself up with her hands. The ground gave a little, and as she gazed more closely at it, she started up to her feet, screaming. “There’s a body here! A dead body!”
Gavin’s laughter ceased; his head snapped to where she was. Quickly skidding down the hill, he pushed Ellyn aside with sudden energy. “Get back,” he ordered, then knelt where the corpse was. He grasped the dusty wrist and felt for a pulse. His face relaxed and he set the arm down.
He looked up at Brynn and Ellyn who were both with him now. “He is alive, but hurt badly.” As Gavin ran his finger down the side of the unconscious man’s face, the dirt came off, revealing a black and blue spot on the man’s temple. Blood covered him in various places, mainly around the temples, nose and back.
“I’m sorry I pushed you over,” Gavin stood and turned to Ellyn. “I did not want you near him if he really was dead – or even decaying.”
Ellyn pushed the stray red locks out of her pale face. “It only scared me a little,” she said.
“What are we going to do about him?” Brynn asked, pointing to the man lying in the dust.
“Take care of him until he is better and then allow him to go his way,” Gavin said simply.
Ellyn took her gaze off the unconscious man and looked at her brother. “Then I suppose we must get him out of this hole and take him to the place Brynn said we would stay the night.”
Both boys looked at her in surprise.
Ellyn glanced from one face to the other. “What?”
“That’s the first time you haven’t argued with something he’s said this whole time,” Brynn said, pointing at Gavin.
Ellyn gave him a quirky smile. “I can do things willingly, you know. Come on, let’s just get him out of the dirt.” She went to stand at the crumpled up body’s head. “I will hold up his neck while you two carry him.”
Within a few minutes, they had carried him to the road and, after moving some of the luggage off the pony, had the stranger sitting on its back, leaning on its soft mane. Gavin led the horse while Ellyn made sure the man didn’t slip off; Brynn carried the bags.

* * * * *

“I’m so tired,” Brynn remarked as he set down the heavy gear and sat.
Gavin took a seat beside the newly built fire and drew his knees up, sighing deeply.
Ellyn was the only busy one among them. The boys had laid the man out on the opposite side of the fire, and Ellyn was gently bathing the wounds around the invalid’s face. He was a pleasant looking fellow, she thought. Black hair that came to his shoulders, a muscular body, and a tawny face all appealed to her. Perhaps she would get to know him better once he woke up.
The wounds on him were immense. Many of them were bruises, but some were cuts, dried and cracked blood covering them. She dabbed her dirtied cloth with water from her canteen and continued wiping the blood and dirt away. As she washed his face, his eyeballs stirred under their lids. They fluttered and finally opened, staring up at Ellyn with a mixture of fear, wonder, and anger.
“Don’t worry,” Ellyn said coaxingly, “we are friends. We found you at the bottom of a ditch, so we’re making sure you get better.”
“I don’t want your help,” he said, pushing her hand away and getting to his feet. He staggered with weakness and sank back to the ground.
“Here, lie down,” Ellyn said, pushing his shoulder a bit. “You’ll make yourself worse if you try to get up.”
“Get away from me,” he said scornfully, smacking her hand this time.
Ellyn’s face turned crimson with indignation. With a flick of her wrist, she rapped sharply on Erath’s bruised knuckles. “I was just trying to help you,” she snapped. Tossing her head, she stood and looked down on him condescendingly. “See if I ever help you again,” she retorted, and went over to Brynn and Gavin, sitting down between them with a humph.
Brynn got to his feet and stood over the ailing man. “What’s your name?”
“Why do you want to know?” he retorted. “Who are you anyway? Where am I?”
“What’s your name?” Brynn persisted. When the man refused to say anything, he gave in with a short sigh. “I am Brynn, that lad over there is Gavin, and that’s his twin, Ellyn. You have no right to brush her aside when she was only trying to help you. I ask again, what’s your name?”
After a silence, the young man gazed straight ahead of him. “Erath,” he mumbled.
Brynn nodded and looked at the twins who had fixed their eyes on him. Turning back to Erath, he spoke again. “Where do you come from? And what happened to you?”
Erath sat sullenly, refusing to speak.
Brynn was getting tired of dealing with this man already. “Look. We rescued you from the ditch you were tossed into. Ellyn dealt with your wounds, Gavin and I carried you all the way over here, and believe me, you are no featherweight. I believe we have a right to know who you are and where you’re going.” His words were simple, spoken calmly. He took a step toward Erath. “So, who are you?” Erath didn’t answer but stared coldly at Brynn. He took another step. Erath sprang to his feet, fists clenched.
Gavin stood quickly. “What happened to you, Erath?” His tone was so commanding it forced Erath to lower his hands. Ellyn gazed up at her brother. Gavin had never spoken in that tone before.
Erath swung his haughty gaze at him. “I did not pay for my food at an inn, so they came after me.”
“Where are you from?” Gavin asked in the same commanding tone.
Erath’s eyes lowered a little, the pride leaving them. “A ship called the Freedom. I deserted.” Then his eyes darted up and his fingers clenched into fists again. “But if you try to make me go back or report me to the authorities, I’ll kill you.”
Ellyn looked at her brother, frightened.
Brynn had had enough. He pulled his knife from his belt and hit Erath on the head with his pommel in one quick motion. Erath groaned and fell to the ground, unconscious.

Brynn: Chapter 9

Hey ya'll,
Sorry this took me so long! Here is the long awaited chapter 9. Enjoy! And leave us lots of comments! ;)

C

~~~~~

Brynn woke with a start. He was leaning against the clay wall of the cellar. Across from him, stairs rose up to the door. The creaking of hinges had awakened him, he realized. He watched the thin line of light around the doorframe slowly expand into a full rectangle. The door was open, he thought, slowly. His sleep-befuddled brain made him drowsily unconcerned. At that moment in time, he just wanted to go back to sleep.

“All right, get him down there! We’ll deal with this in the morning,” a male voice said from above. “Two Wolves,” the man muttered to himself. A second later, he pushed a tall, dark figure in a hooded cape toward the stairs. The figure wasn’t resisting at all, he walked down the stairs slowly and precisely. Brynn finally woke up, as the figure neared him. Through the pale moonlight, Brynn could distinguish a smile on the man’s face.

“Well, what have we got here? Let me see, you’re a little short; hair’s a little darker than mine, and you have a scar the only place I don’t have one. Right above the eyebrow. Oh, don’t worry, it makes you look rather dashing,” the other man said.

“Excuse me?” Brynn said, confused. The man chuckled comfortably.

“You could pass as the Wolf, I suppose, but really we are quite different.” He pulled back the hood of his cape. Brynn thought his face interesting. Determined, yet laughing eyes, a firm mouth, and overall appearance of confidence hung about the man. Brynn could see the vague resemblance to himself, which was slightly disconcerting.

“So are you saying that you are the real Wolf?” Brynn asked, finally.

“Ah, and so light begins to dawn. You have guessed correctly, good friend. I thought it was unfortunate for you to get arrested in my name, so I decided to help you out. Fair enough? I do apologize for the inconvenience, Brynn.”

“How do you know my name, Zasur?”

“I make it my business to know everyone’s name. How do you know mine?”

Brynn laughed shortly. “Who does not know your name? ‘Friend of the meek and enemy of the tyrant.’ Also known as a major threat to the government. I think it is self-explanatory,” he replied.

Zasur laughed for a moment. “True—I suppose I am rather well-known.” He turned his face to the window and surveyed the moon for a moment. “We have time before the plan goes into action. Tell me more of yourself.”

“I was traveling to Ketsya with my companion, Iathan, when I was arrested in your name,” Brynn told him.

“Ah, that’s what it was, Iathan. I couldn’t remember the boy’s name. I spoke with him a little while ago. He didn’t know he was talking to the Wolf,” Zasur said, chuckling at the memory. “What will you do when we get out?”

“Continue traveling to Ketsya and visit my family,” Brynn replied, steadily. “And find Iathan, if I can.” Zasur thought for a moment. A low, soft whistle came through the window, and he stood up, looking out.

“Travis? Good. Meet you up around front. Thank you,” Zasur said. He caught two clubs as they were pushed between the bars of the window. Turning back to Brynn, who was watching him, he smiled brightly.

“It’s terrible how horribly insecure these jails are. This is the third one I’ve seen in the past few weeks that was indescribably easy to break out of!” he finished indignantly. He tossed a club to Brynn. “Our aim is to knock our dear guards senseless for a few hours. Keep killing to a minimum, if you don’t mind. I have my reputation to think of,” he added. “Let’s go.”

Brynn followed him up the stairs, breathing silently. The same whistle was heard, then Zasur and Brynn jointly rammed the door. The second time, the door creaked unhappily, as a commotion came from the room beyond. They rammed the door once more, and it fell through, with a loud crack.

“Good work,” Zasur commented. A blond haired man was dueling one of the four guards, and Zasur and Brynn quickly jumped in. The club was a handy weapon; Brynn found he could easily knock a guard unconscious without undue exertion. It was but a few moments before the four guards lay sprawled about the room, senseless. Zasur led the way outside where three horses were waiting.

“Someone will have heard the noise. Let’s be on our way, shall we?” Brynn, Zasur, and Travis mounted and rode quickly out of the town.

ʊʊʊʊʊ

They rode for an hour in the darkness. Brynn wondered vaguely where Zasur was leading them, but followed without hesitation. Finally, they entered the forest bordering the roadside. They had to move more slowly, but it was a relief from the hard riding. Another fifteen minutes, and they came in sight of a campfire and the group of men surrounding it.

“Ho there, Wolf, what have you brought?” asked a thin young man with dark hair.

“Another Wolf, Ivan,” Zasur called, dismounting and handing the reins to a man nearby.

“Another? Come, tell us all about it! Gerard has outdone himself with the cooking this evening and I’m sure your friend is hungry,” Ivan said, smiling. Brynn dismounted, grateful for the many hours of labor that had strengthened and toned his muscles. A few years earlier, a ride like that would have left him crippled. Zasur turned to him.

“Brynn, forgive me for presenting my brother, Ivan,” he said, grinning. Ivan ignored him and shook Brynn’s hand.

“I’m glad to meet you, friend. Have a seat, here, round the fire. Gerard, bring Brynn something to eat,” Ivan commanded. Around them, the men were talking and laughing. Zasur sat by the fire and joked with his men as food was brought for him, Brynn, and Travis.

“Tell us about your conquest, Zasur,” Ivan urged.

“Not much to tell. Everything went according to plan,” Zasur replied. “Travis and I managed to stage a little incident that made me look like the Wolf, got me arrested, and broke out.”

“Why didn’t you just enter the jail and break him out?” someone asked. “Why go to the trouble of getting arrested?”

“Because then Brynn could help us break out,” Zasur explained. “It was much more fun that way, too. I assure you, I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

Watching Zasur and Ivan interact, loneliness tugged at Brynn. He was beginning to realize how much he depended on and enjoyed Rylan’s company. And now, surrounded by people, he felt more alone than ever. It was strange; suddenly being in the midst of so many had reminded him of his brother’s companionship. He shrugged it off, however, refusing to allow it to spoil the evening. You’ll have to come to terms with it, he told himself, wryly. In the mean time, he enjoyed talking with Zasur’s band of followers. They were a merry group, always poking fun at each other and telling stories of their past raids with Zasur. Brynn listened eagerly, enthralled by the daring escapes and risks Zasur orchestrated frequently.

“If that guard had been six inches nearer—” one man finished, leaving the sentence ominously hanging. The others knew what he meant. Brynn turned to Zasur, who had been quiet after their return, listening to the tales the men told. He was smiling slightly, as he poked at the fire absentmindedly.

“Don’t you ever get tired of being chased? Of being constantly in danger? Is it what you wanted for your life?” Brynn asked, finally. Zasur’s black eyes flashed up to meet Brynn’s blue ones.

“Does one get tired of doing his duty?” he asked, quietly. “It has never been a question of whether I want to or not. It is whether I need to or not. And the answer has always been that I need to,” he said, simply. Brynn gazed into the fire, thinking.

“You are a strange man, Zasur. Not many men would be willing to do what you do,” he said. “Standing up for the needy and pressing back on those who would oppress the people. Thank you for getting me out of the jail,” he added. Amusement glinted in Zasur’s eyes.

“That,” he said, “was a good time. We’ll have to do it again, eh?” He glanced around as his followers began to gather their bedding, still joking and breaking into bursts of laughter. Brynn rose, picking up his bedroll, which he had taken with him from the jail.

“Brynn,” Zasur stopped him.

“Yes?” he answered, turning back to look at him.

“I think there are more people willing to stand for justice than you think. Just because a man is a farmer or a merchant doesn’t mean he can’t fight for what he believes is right. If the test comes, I think they will stand firm. Farmers and fathers are braver than they look.”

Brynn nodded. “I’ll remember that.”

ʊʊʊʊʊ

It was morning, and Brynn was ready to start on his journey, once again. Zasur and Ivan walked with him to the road, to send him off. They paused there, as if unsure what to say. Finally Zasur spoke up.

“Brynn, you’re welcome to join us, if you like. We can always use people to fight for justice.”

Brynn considered the offer.

“Thank you, but I must find my family, first. Perhaps, if life in the city doesn’t work out …” He grinned. “I’ll be keeping an eye out for you.”

Zasur nodded in understanding.

“Well, then, it’s farewell. So long, Brynn. I hope your journey is safe, but not too dull,” he said, grinning back.

“So long, Wolf.” Brynn shook Zasur and Ivan’s hands. “Until we meet again.” He turned and started down the road. The brothers watched until he disappeared into the fog, then they too, went along their own road.

ʊʊʊʊʊ

It was nearly night when Brynn reached Ketsya. He made it inside before the city gates closed, and he was grateful, for shortly before it had begun to rain. Despite his heavy traveling cloak, Brynn was soaked by the time he found his family’s house. He was surprised to see the dark front windows, and alarm began to build within him as he knocked repeatedly on the door. There was no answer. Turning away, he spied a nearby house and decided to see if the neighbors knew anything. A short, round lady with graying hair answered the door.

“Mercy! What are you doing here, in all this rain?” she asked, surveying Brynn’s wet and disheveled appearance.

“I’m looking for my family. They live in that house, next door. Do you know where they are?” Brynn asked.

The lady looked out into the street for a moment, nervously, then grabbed Brynn’s cloak and pulled him inside the house, swiftly shutting the door. Before he could process what was happening, the woman had seated him in the kitchen and gone “to fetch Thomas, for he would know what to do.” Brynn warmed his hands at the fire, glancing around the warm, brightly lit kitchen. It was a comfortable little room, he decided, reminiscent of his old home. At the moment, he wasn’t quite sure what to think of his family’s disappearance, but he didn’t want to get worked up about nothing. They could simply be away and planning to return soon.

The woman returned quickly, with Thomas behind her. She whispered loudly.

“There, you see, Thomas. Sitting there, in our kitchen. What do you think of that?” Thomas stepped forward, straightening his glasses and peering at Brynn.

“I’m sorry to intrude,” Brynn said, wondering why the two of them continued to stare at him. “I am just looking for my family. If you could tell me where they are, I’d be most grateful.”

The woman breathed in sharply. “That’s just the thing of it. No one knows where they are. They left, oh, two months ago, and we haven’t seen ‘em since. Just up and left, in the middle of the night.”

“There, there, now, Melinda,” Thomas said, running a hand through his gray hair. “They have to be somewhere. And,” he added, turning to Brynn, “we have no reason to think that they aren’t well.” Brynn felt his stomach clench, as uncertainty took over.

“Why would they leave?” he asked, in disbelief.

Melinda shook her head. “No one knows.”

Brynn rubbed his hand across his eyes. Where could his family have gone, leaving no word for him or Rylan? And why? It was too strange. “Well, thank you for your help,” he said finally, rising. “I’d better be on my way.”

“You are welcome to stay here for the night,” Thomas offered, kindly. Melinda nodded. Brynn smiled, half-heartedly.

“Thank you, you are very kind, but I’d really better go. I’ll let you know if I find anything,” he added. They nodded, still staring at him oddly, he thought. “Oh, is there a good inn nearby?” he asked, as an afterthought.

“The Ram’s Head is down the street. Take a left at the corner and walk straight until you reach it. Can’t miss it,” Thomas answered. Brynn nodded.

“Thanks. Goodbye.”

The Ram’s Head proved to be a popular place, not just for travelers, but also for the locals, who came to drink a cup of ale and swap stories with their mates. Brynn found the proprietor with some difficulty, in the crowded dining room.

“Do you have any rooms?” Brynn asked, trying to be heard above the clatter of dishware and rowdy laughter.

“Sure, sure!” The bald innkeeper answered, slamming plates onto the tables with vigor. He was a rotund, red-faced man, swathed in a huge apron.

“Well, can I rent one?” Brynn went on, following the man as he weaved his way between the tables. The innkeeper handed him one of the heavy trays he was carrying, and began to serve another table. Brynn waited patiently, holding the steaming food. Finally, his host turned back to him, looking surprised.

“Did I hire you?” he asked, puzzled.

“No, sir. You just handed it to me,” Brynn answered, as the proprietor took the tray from him.

“Mm. Well, what do you want, sonny?” He was on the move again. Brynn was surprised at how agile the man proved to be.

“I want to rent a room,” Brynn repeated, as the innkeeper paused in front of a door.

“Well, do me a favor, will ya? Wait until this crowd clears out. I’m jam-packed and trying to keep up with all the orders. Thanks, sonny.” The man disappeared into the kitchen, shouting, “Luciano! Come help me!” Brynn sighed, but was resigned. He decided to wait in one of the little corner booths until the place had cleared out some. He began making his way through the mass of people, all the while having elbows jabbed into his stomach, and people stepping on his feet. An impatient woman behind him kept urging him to hurry up, and Brynn did his best to get out of her way. Unexpectedly, a girl and boy appeared in front of him, carrying plates of hot food in the opposite direction. Brynn stopped to let them pass but the impatient lady had no such notion. She pushed Brynn forward, right into the plate of the red-haired girl. Collision was unavoidable. Hot gravy and mashed potatoes spattered Brynn’s clothing and hair as the woman shoved him. The girl let out a shriek, followed by an indignant exclamation Brynn didn’t quite catch. The impatient lady disappeared into the crowd, and after the initial moment of silence, when the girl’s shriek and Brynn’s cry of warning had interrupted the chatter, the people went back to their own food and conversation. Brynn was face to face with the indignant redhead and her dark-haired counterpart.

“What are you doing?” the girl sputtered, fuming. The front of her dress had received it’s share of her food, and she rubbed at it with a napkin. “Why can’t you watch where you’re going?” The boy stepped forward quickly.

“Ellyn, stop it!” he said in a fierce whisper. “I’m sorry,” he said, turning honest gray eyes on Brynn. “My sister didn’t mean to be a problem.” Ellyn started to protest, but the boy was quicker.

“Here.” He handed Brynn his napkin. “I’m sorry about your clothes. Let’s get out of the way,” he said, realizing that they were still standing in a main walkway. The boy hustled Ellyn and Brynn over to a table. “Can I buy you some food?” he asked, hoping to make amends for the dinner spattered down Brynn’s front.

“That won’t be necessary, Gavin,” Ellyn said, calmly. “I’m sure this man was going to offer to buy me a new dinner, since he has adorned himself with mine.”

Brynn couldn’t hold the amusement out of his voice. “I’m sorry, young lady, but a very edgy woman happened to think it would improve my looks. She insisted on telling me so very forcefully.” Gavin was staring at Ellyn indignantly, but the stranger didn’t seem to mind her.

“Where are you going?” Brynn asked, surveying their traveling clothes.

“What does is matter to you?” Ellyn asked, her voice challenging. He merely raised his eyebrows and looked at Gavin.

“We’re going to Tiras, to my uncle’s house,” Gavin answered. “Do you know the way? Thanks to someone,” looking significantly at Ellyn, “we seem to be lost.”

“Aye, I’ve been there before. It’s not so far from here, but the road goes through the mountains and it’s not safe to travel alone.”

Gavin glanced a little worriedly at Ellyn. “Why not?”

“Wolves and bandits, mostly. They’re always prepared for defenseless travelers who happen to be passing through,” Brynn answered, frankly.

“Where are you going?” Ellyn asked, turning the conversation on Brynn. His eyes clouded for a moment.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I was planning on staying here, with my family. But I don’t know where they are now. They seem to have gone away without leaving word for anyone.”

“Where would they have gone?” Gavin asked, curious.

Brynn shrugged. “I just don’t know. They could be anywhere. Maybe in Tiras,” he added, as the thought struck him. “My father is a merchant. Tiras is a port town, meaning that lots of trade goes on there. It’s possible,” he said, thinking out loud.

“Quite possible,” Gavin replied. “Do you think you’ll go there?”

“Well, as I’ve no where else to go, most likely. I’m going to check around Ketsya tomorrow and make sure that they really have left. But after that, Tiras seems most likely.”

“If you want, we could travel together,” Gavin offered. Ellyn, who had been quiet for most of the conversation, broke in.

“Gavin,” she said, “I need to talk to you. Over there. Now.” Gavin gave his sister a questioning look, but she just stood up and walked away. He excused himself and followed her to an alcove near the door.

“Gavin! What are you doing? We don’t even know who this person is and you’re inviting him to travel with us!”

“Ellyn, calm down. Does he seem like a bandit to you?” Gavin asked. Ellyn looked over at the empty table where Brynn sat.

“You never can tell. I’ve heard that crooks often are the least suspicious looking people. That’s why they get away with so much.”

“Ellyn, don’t be ridiculous. He’s just a guy looking for his family.”

“Did you see his bow? He looks like he knows how to use it!”

“Well that’s a good thing if the mountains are as dangerous as they seem to be!” Gavin answered impatiently. “Look, Ellyn. If he isn’t a good, law-abiding citizen, then we’ll just leave, alright?”

“If he doesn’t kill us first,” Ellyn muttered. Gavin smiled.

“I’m sure the two of us will be able to take him out, should the need arise.”

Ellyn smiled too. “Alright. You win. But if anything happens, it’s your fault.”

“Fair enough.”

The two finally returned to the table. Brynn had a good idea of what they had been discussing and had watched the conversation with amusement. They made quite a pair. But he already liked Gavin. And Ellyn—well, he’d get used to her. She was a character, but not necessarily a bad one.

“So, will you come with us?” Gavin asked.

“I believe I will,” Brynn answered, smiling. “There is safety in numbers, after all. And we’re going to need all the help we can get to get through those mountains.”

Believe it or not....

So...for all you faithful/not-so-faithful/nonexistant readers out there; believe it or not, I haven't forgotten about this project! I just happen to be in school, a noble, but time-consuming pursuit, which also happens to be the most important thing I'm doing right now. Fear not, when school (and a few other things...) are over, it is my desire to faithfully finish chapter nine and post it for your enjoyment (yes, it's partly/most of the way done). Please don't give up on us. Not yet, anyway. I promise we will eventually return, faithful ones.

Yours, extremely cordially,

C

Twins: Chapter 8

Gavin winced as he watched Ellyn talk to the gypsies. They seemed friendly enough, but almost as a rule, the people back in his town never talked to gypsies. Just then, Ellyn motioned him over. He approached cautiously and Ellyn grabbed his arm to introduce him. Surprisingly, he found that the gypsies were quite unlike what he always imagined them to be. They seemed more civilized, friendly, and carefree.
“We are traveling to the city of Tiras – where are you headed?” asked Ellyn. She was talking to an old, bent over woman who looked to be at least seventy.
Gavin nudged Ellyn. Why did she have to tell everyone everything?
She simply shrugged her shoulders at him and continued talking to the old gypsy.
Gavin glanced about him. Everywhere he looked he met curious stares. There were a few young children, but mostly people from their early twenties and up. One man caught his attention. He looked to be the same age as Gavin. The young man, however, was watching Ellyn with amusement written on his face. Gavin had to smile himself. Ellyn got that look a lot.
“If you travel with us, you would have to do your share of the work,” the old woman was saying. Gavin turned back to the conversation with a start. Ellyn actually wanted to travel with them?
“We can do that,” Ellyn said. “When do you leave?”
“Once we finish eating breakfast. Come join us.”
Gavin’s shoulders drooped as the people around him welcomed him into the circle and Ellyn instantly began to chatter away and make friends. Gavin sighed and stared into the fire. It would be a long day.

“Your sister’s a spirited person,” Dan laughed. “That’s good. We don’t have much of that around here.”
Gavin nodded as he watched his sister having fun with some of the younger children. Dan was the man who Gavin had noticed earlier. He had come over to join Gavin and talk.
“You’re not from this country, are you?” Gavin turned to him.
Dan laughed again, an infectious, hearty laugh which seemed to sum up his happy-go-lucky character in an instant. He brushed light-colored hair out of his dark eyes. “My accent betrays me,” he said. “But you’re right; I am not related to any of the gypsies – nor am I from these lands. I come from up north, where towns are fewer and the air is colder. I joined the gypsies a few years ago and have not had the heart to leave them since.”
People began to get up and pack their things back into the wagon. “Time to go,” Dan stood as well. “Hope you’re up for a lot of walking.”
Gavin got up as well and found Ellyn securing their few belongings back onto Ben. “Why did you get us into this?” he whispered into her ear.
“Oh, don’t complain Gavin,” Ellyn brushed him off. “We’ll have protection and people to talk to until we reach the next tavern. What’s the matter with it?”
“You can’t just trust everyone you meet, Ellyn,” Gavin held the reins of their packhorse.
“Well, what do you want to do then? Ignore everyone you meet?”
Gavin turned and led Ben to the wagon. “Maybe,” he muttered to himself. The rest of the day went by tediously. Gavin found that he was either spacing out while he walked or he was talking to Dan. As it turned out, Dan was a very interesting person to have a conversation with. One of the things Gavin discovered about his new friend was that he could make people change moods in an instant. Gavin found that when he talked to Dan his irritated mood lessened until he was actually happy to talk to people. Dan’s talk was never boring, and when he was not entertaining Gavin with exaggerated tales of his life with the gypsies, he would talk of his childhood up north and the traditions they held there. At the end of the day, Gavin found himself sitting down wearily by the huge bonfire, listening to stories or songs by the gypsies and finally dozing off.

Gavin awoke to a throbbing pain in his shoulder and back. He was lying on the ground by the ashes of the fire, and realized that the cause of the pain was that he had been lying on a rock directly in between his shoulder blades. Gavin sat up and massaged his shoulder. It was early morning, and people were just getting up and preparing for breakfast. Regardless of what they looked like, the gypsies were excellent cooks. One of the men had shot a turkey to save for supper, and the women were making biscuits for breakfast.
“What are you sitting there for, eh?” A cracked voice spoke out behind Gavin. He felt a stick jab at his back, and spun around to see the old woman staring at him. “Get to work,” she said in a voice so commanding that Gavin would have thought her a threatening slave driver. Appearances certainly were deceiving.
Gavin stood, putting his cloak with Ben, and then came over to the old lady.
“Don’t just stand there, boy, help with breakfast,” she said. He found himself being dragged over to a woman who was stirring biscuit mix in a bowl.
“Here,” the woman said, pressing the mix and the spoon into his hands. “Spoon out the biscuits onto that pan and put it over the fire.” After saying this, she went of to make more mix. Gavin stood in front of the fire in bewilderment.
“C’mon, get movin’ boy,” the old woman called over to him.
"Doesn’t she have anything better to do?" Gavin thought. He sighed as he found the pan and began to spoon that mix onto it. "There will be no standing still here."
“No, no, no,” someone laughed behind him. The woman who had given him the mix knelt down next to him and took the spoon out of his hands. “You’re making the biscuits too small. They’ll burn too quickly that way.” She showed him the right size to make them and then left him to start over. Gavin heard a familiar laugh and Dan came over to him. “Matty’s definitely keeping you busy,” he said.
Gavin raised his eyebrows at the comment and finished spooning out the biscuits.
“You’d best let me get those for you,” Dan said. “Granny’s missing you.”
Gavin nodded and went off to find her. She seemed to be expecting him. “You’re going to need to pluck the turkey for supper,” she said. Gavin sighed again. What was he, a slave? Most of the men were just sitting around talking. Why were all the jobs falling to him? Normally, Gavin would not mind doing work, but all the walking had gotten to him. He just felt like going back to sleep.
Before he knew it, a huge, turkey was being shoved into his arms. He looked tentatively at it and sat down on a rock near the fire. How was he supposed to pull all the feathers out? Gavin glanced around him. Everyone seemed wrapped up in their own business. Good. He took a feather in between his fingers and yanked on it. The feather barely budged. He yanked on it again, making a sick face, but it still would not come out. What was the matter with this turkey? He grabbed onto the feather in a tight grip and pulled on it with all his strength. The feather popped off so suddenly that Gavin toppled over in shock on the ground. Almost as he had expected, Dan’s light-hearted laugh made him jump up in embarrassment.
“Stubborn turkey?” Dan asked. He took it and plucked a feather out. “You’re not pulling on it right. It needs to be a quick, jerky pull, like this,” Dan gave a demonstration. He handed the turkey back to Gavin. “That should make it easier.”
Gavin spent hours plucking that turkey. By the time they broke camp, he was still plucking the feathers out. Ellyn was walking next to him and Dan, and she unsuccessfully stifled a giggle. Gavin shot a warning glance at his twin, silencing her, and then continued to pull the feathers out. There was a long, awkward silence as they trudged on behind the wagon.
“Gavin,” Ellyn finally spoke, “are you sure you do not want me to do that for you?”
“I can do it myself,” Gavin replied gruffly. Ellyn and Dan exchanged smothered looks.
“You know,” Ellyn said slowly, “plucking turkeys is women’s work.”
“Try telling that to Granny,” Gavin brushed her off in annoyance.
“She’ll never know if you let me do it,” Ellyn made another attempt. “She’s in the wagon right now.”
“Oh yes she will, Ellyn,” Dan said warningly. “She sees everything, trust me.”
“Why do you want to pluck the turkey so badly anyway?” Gavin asked.
Ellyn rolled her eyes. “Just let me, okay?”
“Fine,” Gavin dumped it into her hands.
“Ha!” Ellyn exclaimed as Dan groaned. “You owe me,” she laughed.
Gavin looked at them in bewilderment. “What?”
“I made a bet with Dan that you would give me the turkey, and he bet you wouldn’t,” Ellyn explained. “Now he owes me ten gold coins.”
Gavin let out a groan. “Why do you keep wasting your money on betting and fortune-telling?” he asked, even though he knew saying it was useless.
“What?” Dan looked at Ellyn, amusement and curiosity clearly written across his face.
“Nothing,” Ellyn said, and stared at Gavin in annoyance.
“Well, you cannot go back on your deal,” said Gavin. “You still have to do the turkey.”
“Fine,” Ellyn began to pluck the turkey’s feathers.
“I’ll make you another bet, Ellyn, to win back my money,” Dan said to her. “I’ll bet you that you cannot pluck all those feathers out in ten minutes.”
Ellyn laughed. “I will accept that bet,” she said. “I’ll give you back your ten coins if you win, but if I win you have to give me another ten coins.”
Dan began the countdown out loud. By the time he had reached eight minutes, all three of them hoped they would never have to hear another number again. However, it was amusing to watch Ellyn frantically pull feathers out of the turkey. Gavin found that by the time Dan had reached one minute, he was practically covered in turkey feathers. Ellyn held up the bald turkey triumphantly. “Beat you again,” she laughed, and Dan groaned yet again. He reluctantly handed over the coins.
“Are you going to try to win those coins back?” asked Ellyn.
“No,” Dan replied quickly. “Not unless I can think up something that I’m sure I can beat you in.”
“Well, you had better think quickly,” said Ellyn. “We are reaching the tavern tonight, and that is when we are leaving you.”
At the mention of them leaving, Dan’s cheerful face actually sobered for a moment. Gavin was not the only one who noticed.
“I have one,” Ellyn said. “I’ll bet you that we will not come across each other again in our travels. That means I will have to pay you the next time we see each other.”
Dan smiled again. “Agreed.”

That night, they reached the tavern, and Gavin and Ellyn parted with Dan and the gypsies.
“Remember our bet!” Ellyn laughed as she waved goodbye to them outside the tavern. Dan waved back, and then disappeared in the darkness. Gavin and Ellyn turned to go inside, and Ellyn sighed. It was noisy and crowded in the tavern.
“Too bad we were with them for such a short time,” Ellyn said to her brother. “Dan can be much better company than you sometimes,” she nudged him playfully. He smiled and put his hand on her shoulder. Ellyn’s countenance softened a bit at his touch, and at that instant she seemed to change her mind about what she had said. “But then again …” she turned her face to her twin, “if I were still traveling with him I’m sure we would both lose all our money.”

Erath: chapter 7

Ratline sat down next to Erath. “Want to make a bet?” he asked.

Erath’s curiosity was aroused. “What about?” he said, leaning a little closer and lowering his voice.

“Whether you can escape or not,” came the reply.

His heart skipped a beat. “Off the Freedom?”

“Aye, that’s the idea.”

“What’s the price?”

Ratline scooted closer to his mate. He tilted his head to the side to talk with Erath instead of looking at him straight in the eye. “Life and money.”

Erath forced himself to be still and not jerk. “How do you mean?” he asked guardedly.

“I mean that if you win and get away, you have your life – freedom. If you get caught, you give me all the money we make from the Navy for two seasons.”

Stroking the stubby whiskers on his chin, Erath thought over it. The stakes seemed fair enough. He knew well that if he were caught, he would not only lose his pay for half a year, but he would probably lose his life as well. Deserters were usually hanged soon after being brought back. It took only a moment for Erath to think of all this before he gave his answer.

“Alright,” he said, “I’ll do it.” He extended his hand to meet Ratline’s and they shook on it.

Later that night, while they were on their watch, Ratline told Erath the plan he had formulated. They were to land in Tróss within a fortnight. While it was dark, and while he was on his watch, Erath would sneak off the ship; Ratline would make sure he was missed for at least a few hours.

It seemed Ratline was trying to help Erath get away instead of looking for a way to get money. Erath was not sure whether to be glad of the extra help, or more wary of it. With Ratline, no one could be sure. But he was aching to be rid of the Freedom. He longed to travel the streets again and not be constantly yelled at. To make and carry out his own orders. What he really wanted was true freedom, and it was not to be found on this ship.

Erath was at the crow’s nest – where he usually was on the long watch. All he could see was blackness and a faint line indicating where the rope ladder was. The mast swayed with the ship, but Erath kept perfect balance. A person who was new to a ship would have been terrified with such movement, but Erath had quickly adjusted.

He leaned his elbows on the rail, looking out into blackness, his mind far away. The wind tossed his long hair about him, but he didn’t notice. What will I do when I am away from here? he thought. The possibilities opened up before him. He could become a tradesman and work his way up to positions of power. Erath quickly rejected that idea. He was selfish, and did not want the responsibility of taking care of other people and their petty matters. What he wanted was to do anything that he enjoyed.

At last, the night came when Erath was to escape. There was a full moon, which unhappily for Erath, provided much illumination. His chest fluttered with excitement at the thought, he would soon be rid of the Freedom forever.

Ratline came up to him, his sauntering gait an instant annoyance. “You ready?” he whispered. Erath leaned over the edge of the railing, peering out over the streets that lay not more than a bow shot away. They were docked at a harbor, and were able to bring the Freedom up to the very piers for unloading. And yet he was nervous.

It was so simple, he told himself. All he had to do was climb out the port side, land softly, and get away down the pier and through the city. He did not answer Ratline at once.

“Come now, lad,” Ratline taunted, “yur’ not turnin’ coward on me, are ya’?”

Erath’s gaze snapped to meet Ratline’s, eyes flaming. “No,” he said fiercely. “I’m not the sort ‘a’ person to turn yeller’.” This was not to reassure only Ratline, but also himself.

“You got a quarter hour, then yur’ on yur’ own.” He extended his lean, calloused hand. “See ya’ in a few hours, boy.”

The young sailor straightened and turned to face him. “Goodbye,” he said, taking the hand and shaking it. “I will get away though.”

Ratline made no response. He lifted his eyebrows in doubt and ambled away.

Erath turned his gaze back to the city. He had no idea where he would go when he left it; all he knew was that it was his one opportunity to have his liberty back. Looking up, he saw a man in the crow’s nest. There was really no need for him to be up there; they were at land, but Erath saw instantly the danger it would cause him to be seen by that man in the full moonlight.

After taking a quick glance at the sky, he decided to wait until the cloud would pass over the moon. Then – and only then – would he make his attempt at freedom.

Erath casually walked to midship and took a good look at where the dock was. It could not have been more than six feet away. He was so close; it would be disastrous to fail in even one point of his plan. He had to make sure where he was going to land after it got darker.

Too soon did the cloud cover the moon. Erath’s spirits rose with the beating of his heart. This was it. He had to get off now. With one final deep breath, he launched himself over the side and landed on the dock. Immediately, he flattened himself to make sure no one had noticed. It did not appear so. Slowly, very slowly, Erath raised himself, and stole as quietly as he could down the pier.

Only when he had made it past the first few houses did he pause to breathe. He had escaped. The thought crowded his mind, filled him with ecstasy.

Confident in his silence, Erath broke into a run, going through the town in no more than five minutes. He stopped to catch his breath after he was clear of the little seaside city, and then took off running again. He knew not where he would go, or where to find food, but one thing reverberated in his mind: he was free.

Brynn: Chapter 6

It was dark in the forest. Brynn was poking the squirrel that he had started to roast. It was quiet. Too quiet. It was a week since he had left Taurah. He wondered what Rylan was doing. Over the past few days he had realized just how much he enjoyed being around his brother. It was strange not having someone to talk to, even though he wasn’t inclined to be talkative. Brynn turned the squirrel again. Now that he thought of it, he wasn’t really very hungry anyway. He heard a slight rustling in the bushes nearby. Instantly, he was on his feet, his knife ready. He ducked to avoid being hit with a rock that came sailing through the air, whistling past his head. Brynn dove into the bushes and caught the arm of a young man. The boy struggled for a moment, then lay still. Brynn pulled him up, tightly holding onto his arm. For a moment they stood, facing each other. Brynn’s icy blue eyes measured his assailant. He was younger than Brynn, and his brown eyes blazed angrily at him. Brynn didn’t see him as much of a threat. Letting go of his arm, Brynn looked at him suspiciously.

“Who are you and what do you want?” he asked, finally. The boy shook his shaggy blond hair out of his eyes.

“My name is Iathan. And I don’t want anything.” Brynn’s eyebrows shot up.

“Indeed?” He took the squirrel off the fire. “Then why did you throw the rock at me?”
“I didn’t throw it. I used my sling,” Iathan said, superiorly. Amusement shone in Brynn’s eyes.
“It doesn’t really make much of a difference, does it? The point is, you were trying to hit me with the rock, right?” Iathan chose not to answer him. “Anyway, why were you trying to hit me with a rock?”
“I don’t have to tell you,” Iathan said, defiantly.
“Oh?” Brynn asked, putting the meat on a plate. Iathan’s eyes went wide as he watched Brynn. “Hungry?” Iathan nodded, ever so slightly. “Then why don’t you tell me why you were trying to hurt me? Then we can eat.”
“I … uh … Didn’t want you to give me away. I knew you had heard me move,” Iathan explained, sheepishly.
“Give you away to who?” Brynn asked, casually.
“My uncle. I’m running away,” he confessed. “I’m going to live with my brother, in the city. My uncle forbade me to go, but I told him that I am old enough to think for myself,” he said. “Uncle said I was indebted to him for taking me in, but I have more than repaid him. And I can make my own decisions,” Iathan finished, decidedly. Brynn wisely chose to change the subject.
“Which city are you headed for?”
“Tiras. There’s a fishing port there. It’s near the sea, you know,” he added, absentmindedly.
“I should think it would have to be near the sea for a fishing port,” Brynn replied, laughing. He handed Iathan a tin plate. His appetite had returned, he realized. The boy ate hungrily, and Brynn watched him. “When did you last eat?”
“Yesterday morning. I ran out of provisions,” Iathan explained. “I’m not a very good hunter yet,” he added, ruefully. He was quiet, eating his food. Brynn didn’t say anything. The fire crackled in the silence, and far away Brynn could hear frogs chirping. Iathan looked up suddenly.
“Who are you?” he asked. Brynn chuckled, realizing the boy hadn’t even asked his name.
“My name is Brynn. I’m going to Ketsya,” he answered. Iathan nodded.
“Where do you come from?”
“A village south of here. It’s called Taurah. My brother lives there,” Brynn replied.
“Why are you leaving?” Iathan persisted.
“My brother got married. I used to live with him, but the cabin is really his. So I’m off to Ketsya to join the rest of my family.”
“My three brothers live in Tiras. The older two never lived with my uncle, but the other, Jotham, used to. It’s him I’m going to join. He left two years ago, and I haven’t seen him since. He sent me a letter, telling me to join him two weeks ago. I left after a couple days and have been on the road ever since. Do you have a big family?”
Brynn thought of his parents and sister.
“No, just my sister and my father and mother. I haven’t seen them for almost three years now.”
Iathan was quiet for moment, thinking. He looked up, his brown eyes questioning.
“Brynn, the road to Tiras runs through Ketsya. Would you like to accompany me that far?”
“Why not? It would be nice to have some company. We’ll depart tomorrow at dawn. Which means we’d better hit the sack,” Brynn said.

ʊʊʊʊʊʊ

Later that night, Brynn was still awake, staring up at the stars. They were tiny silver points, shining out of a blue-black sky. He could glimpse them between the leaves of the trees overhead. He picked out familiar stars: Svea, Bornon, and his favorite, Erasqil. Erasqil had existed for ages; it was the oldest star. It twinkled, sending short rays of light around its circumference.

Brynn’s mind wandered to the conversation he had had with Iathan. They had talked about his family. He missed them, he realized. Especially his sister, Alva. The three siblings had been close when they were younger. Brynn remembered Alva. How people had been deceived by her quiet appearance, her shiny brown hair and green eyes. Underneath her docile exterior, Alva was quick thinking and lively. He recalled the numerous pranks she had played on him, inspired, of course, by Rylan’s expertise in that area. How she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, ever. No, Alva would only be described as “quiet” by those who did not know her. Brynn smiled in the darkness, ready to see his little sister again.

It was almost dawn when Brynn woke up. The sky was gray, streaked with orange and pink clouds. Iathan was still sleeping. Brynn laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to wake him up. The next moment, a hand shot up and hit him squarely on the jaw. Iathan was awake as soon as his hand made contact. He stared at Brynn, who was holding his jaw and grimacing.
“Do you always do that?”
Iathan grinned apologetically.
“Sorry. Reflexes I guess.”
Brynn shook his head and started breakfast.

ʊʊʊʊʊʊ

The two ate breakfast and packed their things, then hit the road. Iathan easily matched Brynn’s steady stride, and they made good progress. Brynn silently studied the boy as they walked. He was probably seventeen or eighteen. He was tanned and his hair was light blond from working in the sun. There was something slightly defiant about the way he walked, Brynn thought. His companion proved to be good-natured, however. Iathan told Brynn about his many escapades as they walked.
“Once, Jotham and I were-” Brynn cut him off suddenly, raising his hand for silence. He stood, listening intently. Iathan watched him, concerned. Quietly, Brynn crept among the low-lying bushes, back the way they had come. A few moments later, he returned to Iathan.
“I think we’re being followed. Would your uncle still be looking for you after two weeks?” he asked.
“I doubt it. He’s a lazy man. Besides, he still has his two sons to help him,” Iathan replied, firmly. Brynn raised his eyebrows, puzzled.
“Well, someone is still following us. I have no idea why. Let’s try to lose them in the next village. We need supplies anyway,” Brynn decided. Iathan nodded his assent. They continued on, both aware of sounds behind them, but not looking back.
Soon they reached the village of Lumra. It was very similar to Taurah, almost the same size, but there seemed to be more people around. Iathan went to buy food while Brynn went to the blacksmith’s to get his sword and knives sharpened. He had brought his little-used sword from Taurah in poor shape. He had decided to seize the opportunity to get it fixed up. They agreed to meet at the town square in half an hour.
“There ye are,” the blacksmith said, handing Brynn his weapons. He gave Brynn a queer look with his shifty blue eyes. Brynn paid him and headed off to join Iathan, wondering why the man was so suspicious. There was some kind of gathering in the Square. He was pressed into the throng of jostling, shoving, and babbling men and women. It was unclear what was going on. A little man on a platform was trying in vain to talk to the crowd. Brynn was pushed into a rotund man in a brown coat. He murmured an apology to the man, who gave him an annoyed glare and then turned his back on him. Brynn struggled to free himself of the mob; he was almost out of it when a shout pierced the air.
“I’ve been robbed! Stop thief!” It was the man in the brown coat. He searched the crowd, his eyes rested on Brynn, an accusing finger pointed in his direction. “There he is! Get him! He’s a thief!” Faces turned toward Brynn. He barely realized what was happening before he was grabbed by two men. A woman shrieked.
“It’s Zasur the Wolf! It’s the Wolf!” she was saying, excitedly. Murmurs rippled through the crowd to Brynn’s ears.
“The Wolf!”
“Is it really him?”
“It’s Zasur! Mercy on us!”
Brynn finally came to his senses. He turned to the men who were holding him.
“Look. I’m not a thief. You can search me. I have nothing that belongs to this man. I’m not the Wolf.”
“Funny you would say that. I’d sure expect the Wolf to come right out and say that he is who he is,” one of them said sarcastically.
“Besides,” the other added, “you’re his spittin’ image. Come on, to the jailhouse with ya.” Brynn struggled free, hitting one of the men and kicking the other. His fight was in vain, however; he was soon grabbed by more men. They began to drag him to the jailhouse. Through the crowd he thought he glimpsed Iathan’s confused face. It disappeared into the sea of moving faces.
Brynn was thrown into a cellar, which seemed to serve as the jailhouse. The door above was bolted and the window was secured with iron bars. He leaned grimly against the clay wall, a plan already forming in his mind.

Twins: Chapter 5

The packhorse’s feet dragged in the mud. Clip, slide … clop, slide. The mud was now on the edge of unbearable.
Both Gavin and Ellyn had their hoods drawn and their thick, midnight blue cloaks wrapped tightly around them. The temperature dropped about the same time the thunderstorm had begun to follow them. Ellyn was quiet, tired, and thoroughly soaked. Her cloak, thick as it was, was of little use against the forces of Nature. The only noise she made was when she sneezed.
The path they were on was small and wound through a forest heavily crowded with ferns and undergrowth that reached out with spindly hands on to the trail.
Gavin was uneasy about the fact that they were in a forest during a thunderstorm, and soon he realized that Ben, the packhorse, shared his feelings. The thunder made the old horse jumpy, and the lighting caused him to be thoroughly spooked. Ignoring Gavin, who held his reins, Ben turned around and nearly trampled over Ellyn.
The twin acted quickly. Grabbing the reins from Gavin, Ellyn brought her face up to Ben’s, putting one hand over his mane. She looked at him, not making direct eye contact, but staring at the side of his face. Ten seconds passed, the only sound being the rush of rain on the wet leaves and soft, soggy ground. Then, slowly and submissively, Ben turned his head and followed Ellyn back to Gavin. She handed the reins back to her twin and sneezed. Gavin looked at her in utter shock. His hood had done little to protect his head. Wet hair clung to his skin in thin, dark strands, and water ran in droplets down the sides of his face. “How …”
Ellyn shrugged, and they went on quietly. The ground looked and felt like a giant sponge that their feet made little imprints in. Although they were starving, there was no way the twins could get out food without soaking everything in the sack. Supper passed uneaten.
“We should be able to make it to the next town before nightfall,” Gavin called to his sister, his voice barely rising above the downpour. It was meant for encouragement, but helped little. She nodded, sneezed, and sighed, pulling her hood further up.
Another hour or two passed, but neither one counted the time. The rain very slowly let up, and by the time Gavin and Ellyn reached the tavern it was only a drizzle and getting late. It was foggy out, so the twins did not bother to put their hoods down. They left Ben at the tavern stables and then entered.
Although there were few travelers in the country, many people went to the taverns for a mug of beer and conversation. The room was crowded, and Gavin and Ellyn pushed their way through to the counter. The man there gave them a room with two beds. He winked at Gavin. “A bit young for you, ain’t she?”
Ellyn’s mouth opened and closed. For once she was speechless.
“Come on,” Gavin grabbed her hand and dragged her away. They found their room and went in, setting their things down.
It was small, with a table, two chairs, a candle-stand, and two small beds. After eating something from what they had packed, the exhausted twins each took a bed and were quickly lost to sleep.

Gavin opened one eye. Where was he? Everything was unfamiliar. Slowly, memories of the past day flooded back to him. Gavin groaned and sat upright. So it hadn’t been a bad dream after all. He stood up and went over to Ellyn’s bed, tapping her on the shoulder. She rolled over and stuck her pillow over her head.
Gavin rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he grabbed her pillow and shook her.
“Fine, I admit, you are stupid and I should be older,” Ellyn mumbled. She grabbed her pillow back and promptly fell asleep.
Gavin sighed. Sleep talking again. She always insulted him in her sleep. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, shaking it at intervals.
“The hills … roving … must not break the poor feet …”
“Ellyn!”
“What?” she was wide-awake in an instant, sitting upright in bed.
“Time to go.”
“Oh.” Ellyn stood, ran her fingers through her hair, and put her cloak on. “Let’s just eat while we travel,” she said.
They went out to the stables, put their things back on Ben, and led him out to the road. The small town was quite busy at sunrise, so it took the twins longer than expected to push through the village and continue following the dirt road from there.
It led through a sunny meadow, fresh with the smell of the early morning dew mingled with the scent of wildflowers and thistle. The cool breeze rushed over long, golden grass like cold water over smooth pebbles, flowing over Gavin and Ellyn in a wonderfully overwhelming way. There were few bugs, only the crickets chirping in the thicket and monarchs and midnight-blue swallowtails moving quietly from flower to flower.
Ellyn left the road and lay down in the grass, staring up at the watery blue sky. “Can we not just stay here for the day?” she sighed longingly.
Gavin was almost as reluctant as she was to leave. He sat by her and they were both silent for a few minutes. Finally, however, Gavin stood and lent a hand to his sister. “The journey will be long,” he said as he took Ben’s reins, “and we have little time to waste.”

They must have been walking for hours on the deserted road. The weather was nice, and there was always a slight, cool breeze that kept them refreshed. However, the twins both had cramped legs and reopening blisters that put a damper on their spirits. They soon came to another meadow, girded by trees, and found a strange sight. A caravan sat in the middle of the meadow – consisting of about twenty people, ranging in age from at least one to fifty, and they sat beside a large wagon that was halfway covered. All of them sat around a large fire with which they used to roast a pig. By their apparel, Gavin assumed them to be gypsies. He knew not whether to approach or run. Would they be friendly?
Ellyn solved the problem by marching resolutely forward to announce herself.