For the rest of the trip, they ride in silence. James dozes on and off, still not completely over the previous day’s exertions and last night’s magical feat. Later that evening when the sun has sunk low in the sky, Ceryn directs his attention to the road ahead. Nestled in among the trees along this side of the river are several wooden buildings. Ceryn nods when he looks questioningly at him. Trendle.
Chapter Four
As they pass through Trendle’s outlying area, the countryside changes from forest to tilled lands with crops growing tall in the summer sun where farmers are hard at work. Some take notice of Ceryn and holler a greeting. Most times he only smiles and waves back, though if they are close enough he might offer a few words.
“You seem to be popular around here.”
Ceryn nodded. “I’ve been the Warden in these parts for a little over a score and a half years. I know just about everybody within fifty miles.”
A small girl runs toward them across one of the fields. Upon seeing her approaching, Ceryn slows the wagon, brings it to a halt and waits. When she reaches them, she says, “My daddy was wonderin’ if you’d be stopping by while you’re in town?” Dirt streaking her face could not hide a smile that would brighten even the darkest day.
Returning her smile Ceryn replies, “Tell your daddy I’ll be along after dark, I have business in town I need to see to first. Also, tell him I’ll be bringing a friend.”
She glances to James and nods. “Ok. Bye.” Then turning abruptly, she races back across the field to where a group of farmers work hard cutting stalks of grain the old fashion way, with scythes.
“Why don’t they use tractors?”
“What’s a tractor?”
“It’s a…” About to reply, he thought back to everything he had experienced and seen; horse-drawn wagons, swords; Ceryn’s cabin. Perhaps this world didn’t have any such modern conveniences such as tractors, or cars for that matter. Probably still in the midst of the pre-industrial age.
“Oh, never mind.”
Ceryn gets the wagon moving by the time she returns to the farmers. One pauses in his work to lean down and hear what she says, then comes erect again and waves to Ceryn. James sees him speak to the girl and then watches as she heads off at a run toward a farmhouse in the distance.
“That’s Elizabeth, the daughter of the family I mentioned earlier. She’s going to grow up to break some man’s heart someday. Her father’s name is Corbin. His family has worked these fields for over five generations. Good, solid people they are.”
Coming to the town proper, James finds Trendle not to be what one would call a major metropolis. Rather, it was a small farming community with a handful of multi-storied buildings surrounded by those of a lesser sort. As the townsfolk take notice of their approach, many wave a greeting while others come forward to say hello.
An aged man hollers from the front of what looks to be the town’s general store. “What brings you into town, Ceryn?”
“Garrett the Snake and his men paid me a visit last night. Thought I’d introduce them to the mayor.”
The old man eyed the line of riderless horses strung out behind the wagon. “Got them all yourself?”
“No.” Slapping James on the shoulder, he said, “James here helped.”
Grateful for the praise, James still feels slightly uncomfortable by suddenly being the focus of so many people.
One man comes behind the wagon and lifts the tarp to reveal the bodies beneath, “Looks like you got the whole bunch. What happened?”
“Can’t talk now, have to take ‘em to the mayor. I’ll be by the Squawking Goose later and I’ll tell the tale then.”
As they continue on his way, people gather in groups to share the latest gossip about Ceryn and Garret the Snake. James hears his name being mentioned more than once.
As they trundle their way through town, James notices how the townsfolk stare at him. Not in an unfriendly way, more like he’s a curiosity. “Why are they staring?”
Ceryn looks up and takes in the way everyone is gawking. “Aside from being a stranger, it’s probably your odd attire. It’s like nothing seen around these parts.” He waves at several of the onlookers. “Pay them no mind, they’re just curious is all. Not much ever changes around here and new people are always the talk of the town. By tomorrow morning they’ll have several stories circulating about you, none close to being the truth I’d imagine.”
“Great,” he sighs.
News of their coming must have raced ahead for a man dressed in attire finer than anything James had yet seen since passing through the door and entering this world, stood waiting for them at the top of the stairs before the largest building in town. Several others, also in attendance near the building, watch as James and Ceryn approach what the Forest Warden explains is the Town Hall.
“That’s the mayor. He’s an honest man but at times can be a bit stubborn and headstrong,” As they draw near, the mayor descends the steps. Coming to a stop, Ceryn waves a greeting. The mayor returns the salutation
“What are you doing in town, Ceryn? Got too lonely out there with just yourself and the squirrels?”
Laughing, Ceryn replies, “No, John. Actually we have business with you.” Hopping from the wagon, he gestures for the mayor to join him at the rear of the wagon. Flipping back the bloodstained tarp, he reveals the corpses. Grabbing the arm of one, he turns it to exhibit the snake tattoo.
“So, Garrett the Snake is dead? You do it all by yourself?” He nods and casts an approving glance at Ceryn.
“No,” he replies then with a nod, indicates James who still sits on the wagon seat, “had some help. If he hadn’t been there, I’d be dead right now or wishing I was.”
After giving James an once-over, the mayor says, “There’s a bounty on their heads.” He returns his attention to the bodies lying in the wagon. “Looks like you got Garrett and six of his henchmen.” Turning once again to Ceryn he gestures to the line of horses tied to the rear of the wagon. “Are these their horses?”
Ceryn nods, “Yes they are. I would like you to give the whole bounty to James here, I owe him my life. The horses are the town’s, according to our agreement, with the exception of one that James will take for his own.”
The mayor looks up to James and gives him a grin. “I guess we can’t begrudge one for the man who saved our Warden and helped to terminate a long-standing threat to our community.”
Moving down the line of horses, Ceryn unties a brown stallion with white patches from the others and leads it to a hitching post near the Town Hall steps.
“James, this one is yours.”
Using his spear for support, he comes down off the wagon and hobbles over to stroke the horse on its neck. The horse allows the touch with but a snort and brief shake of its head. James is delighted with the choice that Ceryn made.
The mayor turns and motions for them to accompany him. “Come inside and we’ll get this matter settled.” Hollering in a very unofficial manner to two men standing nearby, the mayor says, “Marin, Josh, take the wagon around back and unload the bodies. Put the horses in the stable.” Confident that his orders will be carried out, he leads Ceryn and James up the steps and through the front doors.
They cross a large open room before ascending another flight of steps to the second floor. At the top they enter a hallway that runs the length of the building, ending at a set of double doors. The mayor leads them to the double doors, opens them and then precedes them into his office.
The room is officially decorated. The most prominent feature is a large desk with a high-backed chair, both masterfully crafted. Two chairs of a lesser nature sit before the desk. Several shelves containing dozens of large, expensive looking books adorn one wall. On another wall rests a long shelf bearing expensive looking knick- knacks.
Sitting in the big chair behind the desk, the mayor indicates for Ceryn and James to sit in the two chairs in front of the desk. He then pulls out a piece of paper, vellum really, and dips a quill into an inkwell as he proceeds to
