know who.” Vlandar resumedpacing. “Remember, my lord, that I’m trained for that kind of fighting. I’mskilled at sneaking in somewhere, learning things, inflicting damage, and getting back out again. With the right sized band- fewer than ten, I think-itcould be done.” He paused. Mebree gestured for him to go on. “We’d need a fewgood fighters, a magician or two. If it turns out the Steading’s alone in this,then maybe we can hurt old Nosnra and his folk so they’ll leave us alone. We’dneed good support, of course. Food, horses or boats to get us into the mountains, maps, the best armor and arms.”
Lord Mebree nodded slowly. “To get the people
“No, but with the king in Cryllor just now, there will bethose who’ve come with him or in his retinue. Now, you’re right about fees, butthe Steading is said to hold any number of hidden troves and treasuries. Let us keep whatever valuables we find-tax free, of course.”
The lord laughed. “Tax free, the man says! Of course, I mustpresent this to our king! But it could work. Return tomorrow at this hour, Vlandar. I’ll tell you what the king makes of all this. If he agrees, I’ll seeto it that my steward has funds for you to draw upon for whatever you need. And don’t thank me!” he added sharply. “You may have just bought yourself an uglydeath, my friend. If you come through… well, I will find a way to show mygratitude.”
Vlandar stood and inclined his head. His lips twitched. “Butone needs so little: ‘a small corner of the new barracks, a fire of my own,perhaps a new skin of wine.’”
Lord Mebree got to his feet and clapped the warrior on the back. “Quote my grandfer’s words at me, will you? Ha! Off with you, you oldrogue. I will see you tomorrow.”
“My lord.” Vlandar leaned down to whisper against Lhors’ear. “You also bow when you leave.”
Lhors blushed a deep red as he went to his knees. Above him, the lord murmured a question, to which Vlandar replied, “I’ll takecare of him, my lord. Come with me, Lhors.”
The corridors were even busier on their way out. To Lhors’relief, two older men were on guard outside with no sign of the two who had given him such grief.
“Well,” Vlandar stopped just short of the gates and gave hiscompanion a friendly smile, “you look like a boy who could use a good night’ssleep under a roof-and before that, a decent meal.”
Lhors slowed. “Um, I’ve a little coin, sir, but I have along journey home yet.”
Vlandar was already shaking his head. “My treat. I trust yourfather told you to accept a free meal and cot any time they’re offered? Comeon.”
Lhors smiled faintly and went with the warrior, who strode through a maze of narrow streets into a market area. The youth was lost within moments. The inn where they finally stopped was a pleasant little place behind a low hedge and a well-swept courtyard. The food itself smelled plain and familiar.
Lhors’ nose twitched, and his mouth began to water asVlandar steered him to a bench in the corner where they could see the street. In the paddock across the street, two goats and a swaybacked horse jostled for place at a manger of hay and a pile of spotty cabbage leaves. He forgot about that as a gaunt young woman in shapeless brown roughspun came bustling over with two wooden bowls. A simple-looking hulk of a man came right behind her carrying a heavy black kettle. He held the steaming pot while she ladled soup to the very tops of the bowls. Lhors sipped the broth gingerly, then sighed happily, picked up the bowl, and drank down the contents.
“Your friend has good taste,” the girl said as she refilledthe bowl. This time she added an extra scoop of vegetables and barley from the bottom.
Vlandar gave her a copper coin for more bread before dipping his crust in the broth. He ate absently as the boy finished what he had, then took down another bowl of broth and two manchets of black bread. Finally, Lhors shoved the bowl aside and sighed. “Thank you, Vlandar. I was hunting with Fatherfor days before-before the giants came. I barely recall my last true meal. Ifthere is any use I can be to you to pay back your kindness, sir…”
“I didn’t feed you simply for that,” Vlandar said, “but yes,I do need to know everything you can tell me about those giants. If I could question you…?” He let that hang.
Lhors nodded sharply. His face was pale. He was about to begin when a shadow crossed the table. The youth edged back nervously as Vlandar leaped his feet, but he relaxed when the warrior began laughing. Vlandar clasped a pale-haired fellow by his chain-mail-clad biceps and shouted, “Malowan! Whendid you get into Cryllor? And what are you doing
Malowan’s voice was enormous, filling the room. “Vlandar, itreally is you! Thought you’d be out riding around the hills like that last twotimes I came this way! I’m here because the king is-partly, at least.”
Lhors eyed the man curiously. He wasn’t much taller orbroader than Lharis. A chain-mail coif covered all but the fringes of his straw-colored hair, and he wore heavy-looking scale mail girt with a wide belt that held two swords. Lhors’ eyes went wide as they fixed on the silver devicehammered into the mail from the man’s left shoulder to mid-breast. It was alightning bolt and fist, like the one on the shrine of Heironeous.
Vlandar settled on the bench and gestured for the newcomer tojoin them. “Malowan’s a friend of mine-and a paladin. Mal, meet Lhors. Hisfather was once a captain here.”
“A captain!” The paladin smiled and held out a hand. “And nowyou’ve come to join?” But he shook his head. “No, you’re here because somethingamiss. I can see that much.”
Lhors simply stared at him, wide-eyed. Vlandar nodded. “Ofcourse
“Any paladin past his first pledge would,” the other man saidmildly.
“Lhors is from the hill country near the Yeomanry border.Giants razed his village, and he’s just about the only survivor.”
“Heironeous have mercy upon them all,” Malowan murmured. Hiseyes moved beyond the table, searching the street briefly. “I’m truly sorry,lad. But, Vlandar, giants attacking a village? That’s unheard of!”
“It was,” the warrior said grimly. “But-have you eaten? Ifnot, sit anyway. I have a proposition for you.”
“Have you?”
Someone out in the street was shouting. The paladin’sattention shifted briefly. He blinked and then settled on the end of the bench. “I’m waiting for someone, as it happens-but I can listen, meantime.”
Vlandar made a concise story of it, but Malowan was already shaking his head before the warrior could finish. “I’m sorry, my friend. I’vealready taken on a matter that’s-well, never mind the specifics, but it’s afull-time occupation. I’ll be glad to pass the word for you, though. Nemis isback in the vicinity-or was, last I heard.”
“Nemis? You mean the mage? I heard he’d renounced the worldand turned hermit.”
Malowan came to his feet as a high-pitched argument broke out somewhere down the way. “Hmm? Oh, he told me he liked his own company less thanthat of a crowd. He’s a good mage, and he speaks Giantish, I think.”
Someone in the street uttered a piercing shriek. The paladin glanced outside, then hurriedly got up, offered a quick, “Uh, excuse me,” andwas out the door.
Vlandar got to his feet and looked out the window. Lhors followed his gaze. He could see the paladin sprinting toward the street, where a swirl of people was trying to move away from the vicinity of the yelling. He could just make out the tips of two blunted pikes pushing their way through the crowd.
“See those pikes?” Vlandar asked Lhors. “Those are marketguards. Malowan may need my help. I’ll return.”
Lhors craned his neck, watching as both men vanished into the crowd. He couldn’t make out a thing, but it was easy to see
“If I stay away from the guards, I’ll be all right,” Lhorstold himself as he edged off the bench and out the door. It was a moment’s workto ease through the crowd. While there were plenty of curious types watching, hardly anyone wanted to be too close to the guards-those pikes were used toshove people around, after all.
Lhors slipped around a gray-haired woman in a faded blue kerchief and all at once he could see just fine. Vlandar had a hand on Malowan’s arm and seemed to be trying to pull the paladin away from four market guards in the lord’s blue. Two of the guards were keeping a watchful eye on the crowd.Malowan was arguing-but very politely-with the two other stone-faced guards whoclutched a grubby little street-urchin between them-possibly the cutpurse Lhorshad seen earlier, or another very like. The child looked no older than ten, but its vocabulary was
