too much attention, and even in a dilapidated camp like Klinton, there was a constable or sheriff, and he certainly didn't need to get mixed up with the local law. Not that they were in danger of finding themselves in a hangman’s noose, but explanations would have to be made and coin spent, should men die in the streets.
The night was cold, but the brandy helped to fight off the chill. When they arrived at Darius' camp, Lee could see twenty large wagons filled to bursting with cotton, and arranged in a wide circle. In the center several small fires were burning, surrounded by sleeping men.
Darius grumbled. “Lazy dogs. They're supposed to guard the wagons.” He straightened his shirt and belt, then stiffened his back, standing as tall as his girth would allow. “That’s why I only brought one blasted guard.”
“How many swordsmen do you have?” asked Lee.
“Ten, not counting the two of you,” Darius replied. “Well, nine since I lost the cur that I had with me tonight.”
“Why so many?” asked Jacob.
“The roads south of Angraalare dangerous,” Darius replied. “You may see some action before we get there.”
Lee nodded. “And after?”
Darius chuckled. “No one raids within the borders of the Reborn King. Not unless they wish for death. I'll be glad when they finish whatever war they getting ready for. At least the roads will be safe. I gotta give them credit; they know how to keep order.”
Lee could tell that Jacob wanted to say something, but flashed him a glance. Darius noticed.
“And what do you think about it?” asked Darius. “I see you have an opinion.”
“I think…” Jacob paused. Lee's face was stone. “I think as long as they let people go about their business, I don't care.”
Lee relaxed.
Once within the camp, Darius began kicking awake the men who had been left to guard the wagons, threatening to dock their pay. He pointed to a small tent at the far end of the camp. “I sleep there. After tonight I want you and Jasper to keep your fire and bedrolls nearby. For tonight find yourselves a place with the others. We leave at dawn.”
Lee and Jacob found a spot in the center of the camp and laid out their bedrolls. The other men scarcely looked at them as they settled in.
“It’s going to get even colder soon,” remarked Lee, as he stretched out.
“I'm a northman,” said Jacob. “I don’t mind the cold.”
Lee smiled. His son had done well that night, and he allowed himself to feel proud. He prayed to the Gods that the feeling would last.
Chapter 9
For the next several days, Lee and Jacob spent most of their time with Darius. Originally from The Silver Isles, a small group of islands just off the coast one-hundred miles east of Baltria, Darius had inherited a cotton plantation on the mainland, when his uncle died twenty years prior. When sober, he wasn't nearly as much of a loud braggart, and Lee found him to be a man of quick wit and good humor.
The first day, he invited Lee and Jacob to engage in a dice game with a few of the other men. Though Lee politely refused, Jacob took great joy in the distraction, as well as taking coin from Darius, who turned out to be a very unlucky gambler. After a few more games, Darius chose to sit and talk with Lee rather than lose more coin.
At night, after Darius went to bed, which was usually early when he had too much wine, Lee tried to get to know the others among the caravan. The hired swords were mostly from the edge of the eastern desert. They were regarded as a fierce people of few words and quick temper. Fortunately for Lee, he had spent time in Dantory, and knew how to approach them. Three of the guards intended to join the armies of Angraalwhen they arrived.
“Better to be on the winning side,” said Fennio, a short, thin guard, one night over a few cups of wine. He was by far the most experienced of the lot, and bore the scars to prove it. Unlike the long swords the others carried he preferred a short sword and small mace. “And I hear they pay thirty coppers a week.”
“I'm not servin' in no army,” said Santino, one of the youngest of the group, though he had the look of a hardened veteran. “I don't care if they're payin' fifty coppers. If you ask me, they're payin' so good, because you're marchin' off to get killed.”
“Ha!” scoffed Fennio. “You ain't seen how big the army is. A hundred-thousand if it's ten.”
“You ain't seen it neither,” said Santino. “So shut up.”
Fennio took a swallow of wine and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Yeah, but I heard. They say that before long Angraalis gonna march. You don't wanna be in their way when they do.”
He looked over to Lee, who was feigning disinterest. “What about you? You have the look of a soldier about you. You gonna join up?”
Lee shook head and forced a smile. “If war comes, me and Jasper are going to head east.”
Fennio snorted. “East? You won't find nothin' there but sand and ugly women. Why you think we left in the first place?” The rest of the group burst out in harsh laughter.
“At least Angraalisn't likely to go there,” said Lee.
“You're right about that,” agreed Fennio. They'll be busy with the elves, unless I miss my guess.”
Lee cocked his head. “The elves?”
“Yeah,” said Fennio. “I hear this Reborn King fella's gonna get rid of 'em once and for all.” He shrugged. “Good riddance if you ask me. But who knows. I hear some of 'em are fightin' for him, too.”
“Either way,” Santino interjected. “I ain't fightin' an elf, and I ain't fightin' with 'em. I'd rather go home and marry me an ugly woman, and have me some even uglier children.” This brought more laughter. “Besides, if what those desert dwellers say is true, there's plenty of elves wandering the sand. 'Course most of those folk are daft. You let me know when you head east,” he said to Lee. “I might come with you.”
Lee smiled and got to his feet. “I'll let you know. But I wouldn't wait for the war to start if I were you. And if they go to fight the elves, I'd think twice before I joined.” He brushed off his trousers and went to find Darius and Jacob.
It was a week into their journey when they first started seeing soldiers from Angraal. Mostly small groups of six to ten at a time. They didn't bother with the caravan, other than to warn them to be on their guard for bandits.
“Don't worry,” one soldier had said. “It won't be long before the roads are safe from here all the way to Baltria.”
Lee continued to train Jacob for at least an hour each day. He noticed that since that night in Klinton, something had changed. He was more focused and, in spite of current circumstances, happier. He even seemed to enjoy the training, and to Lee’s delight, was improving dramatically.
On the morning of the eighth day, Lee packed their gear and loaded it on the horses. Darius had taken to walking rather than riding, spending most of their days spinning tales of his adventures. Though Lee could tell the man embellished quite a bit (though not as much as when he had a belly full of wine) it was clear Darius was well- traveled. On several occasions, Lee was asked to tell of his own exploits. At first he was resistant, afraid to give something away that would reveal his identity. But after being pressed by both Darius and Jacob, he relented, and leaving out certain details, told of the many wondrous places he had been.
Just before they stopped for the midday meal, Lee sensed something was wrong. He called for the caravan to halt and reached out with his senses. It was only seconds before he found what he was looking for.
“Gather your men,” ordered Lee.
“What's wrong?” asked Darius.
Lee closed his eyes and listened carefully. “Twenty men. Ten on either side of the road.” His eyes opened. “They're waiting for us.”
Fear showed on Darius' face. “What should we do?”
