was beginning to bristle at the comment, ‘thieves and murderers’. “Didn’t mean you of course.”
“While we’re at the inn,” began Riyan, “staying in our rooms to avoid added complications wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience. But…” turning to the twins he added, “you two shouldn’t be out without an escort.”
“That’s right,” agreed Bart. “Just because you two look the part, doesn’t mean you’ll be safe.”
Around back they stabled their horses then went upstairs to their rooms. Dinner was still an hour away and Bart planned for himself, Chyfe, and the twins to do a little reconnoitering before they ate. He wanted to get a feel for the area. So leaving Riyan, Chad, and Kevik in their rooms, the four left the inn and strolled around the immediate area.
The area as it turned out was filled with businesses and two townhouses. People on the street cast glances toward Bart and Chyfe, but otherwise left them alone. To Bart’s trained eye, it was easy to see those working the marks on the street. In the short block they had walked from the inn, he had seen two separate groups at work. One was of three small children. While two pretended to fight, the third came in behind the onlookers and lifted some goods out of a lady’s basket. He wasn’t able to see what the lad had taken, but it was most likely food.
The other group was a little more sophisticated. It comprised of three older lads and a young girl of about thirteen. When the mark came near the group, two of the boys took the girl by the arms and she began screaming. Of course the mark, who was a wealthy merchant, paused to see what was going on. Then from behind, the third boy reached into his pocket and snatched his purse while he was distracted. As soon as the boy began moving away from the merchant, the two lads who were holding the girl allowed her to ‘escape’ and then chased her down an ally. All in all it was neatly done.
Bart smiled as the merchant, who had no idea he had been fleeced, resumed moving down the street. Oh the memories…There had been many a time when he had taken part in similar activities in his youth. His mind wandered as he reminisced about times long past. Then he felt an almost imperceptible tug on his belt.
Snapping out of his reverie, Bart spun and grasped the wrist of a small child who couldn’t have been more than six. The eyes of the child widened in fear and the boy looked on the brink of screaming for help.
“You scream and I’ll kill you where you stand,” Bart whispered in his most intimidating voice.
Choking back the cry, the child stared with eyes quickly filling with tears. Though only six, the child must have known what would happen to him should he be caught in the act of thieving.
“What’s going on Bart?” asked Chyfe. He and the twins were looking questioningly at the boy he held.
“Caught a thief in the act,” he said. “And a bad one at that.” From the corner of his eyes, Bart saw two older boys watching from a neighboring storefront. He then locked eyes with the boy he clutched and asked, “Those two boys over there working with you?”
With a quick shake of his head, the child said in a tone full of fear, “N…n…no sir.” Bart could hear the falsehood in his voice.
“What are you going to do with him?” asked Seth.
Whatever he was going to do he had best do it soon. The fact that he grasped the hand of the boy was beginning to be noticed by others on the street. “I’m not going to turn him in if that’s what you’re asking,” Bart said. He then thought of a way this may work in their favor.
At hearing he may not be handed over to the authorities, the boy relaxed a little.
“I could use the help of you and your two friends over there,” he said, giving a brief nod to the two boys who continued to watch. “You know the inn called The Leaping Cod?”
The boy hesitated a moment then nodded.
“Bring your two friends there in the morning,” he said. “That is if you would like to make a silver each?”
The boy’s eyes widened at that. A silver was a veritable fortune for one such as he. He nodded vigorously.
Bart let go of his arm. “Come by an hour after dawn,” he said then turned his back on the boy. “Let’s go,” he said to the others.
Chyfe glanced behind Bart just as the boy raced away toward his two comrades standing against the storefront. “What do you plan to do?” he asked.
“They know this town,” he said. “If anyone can help us, it’s them.”
Resuming their walk, Bart continued taking in the buildings and people. ‘Always have a way out,” his father had repeatedly told him. ‘Many a thief has tried to run only to be caught in a dead ended alley’. Whenever Bart was in a strange area, the first thing he did was get a lay of the land. That way if the worst should happen, he would know the best way to flee.
They returned to the inn by the time the sun had gone down. Aside from getting a lay of the land, they had also been on the lookout for wine merchants but hadn’t seen any. Tomorrow, they’ll have more daylight with which to search. And maybe, they’ll even have a little help.
The following morning, found them gathered together in the common room for breakfast despite the fact they knew their presence wasn’t entirely wanted. Riyan wondered if this animosity toward them was a hold over from centuries ago when Byrdlon had tried to reclaim their lost land by annexing The Moran Tribes. Or maybe something more recent?
“Do you think those kids are going to show?” Chyfe asked Bart.
“Yes I do,” he said. “And for two reasons. One, I didn’t give the boy to the guards. And two, their desire to know if I was serious about the promised silver will be too great.”
“I don’t know if that would be enough for me to trust a foreigner that I tried to steal from,” commented Riyan.
“Trust me,” Bart said. “I know these kids better than any of you.” And by the time they were finished eating, he saw a small face peering in through one of the windows. It was the boy who had tried to lift his coin pouch. He nodded to the boy then rose to his feet.
“They’re here,” he told the others. “The rest of you stay inside while I talk with them.” Leaving the table, he crossed the common room to the front door and passed outside. There he found the boy.
“Where’s your two friends?” he asked.
“They’re around,” the boy replied.
Bart nodded and quickly glanced around. Across the street he saw the two boys watching from the mouth of an alley. “What’s your name son?”
“They call me Runt,” he replied.
Bart grinned. “Well Runt, I could use the assistance of someone who knows Hylith,” he stated.
“What kind of assistance?” Runt inquired.
“Nothing dangerous or that will get you in trouble I assure you,” he stated. Pulling a small piece of parchment from inside his shirt, he handed it to Runt. Last night, he had cajoled Kevik into parting with a piece of his parchment so he could copy the crest that was on the wine bottle.
Runt took the piece of parchment and looked at the crest depicted there.
“Have you seen that before?” he asked.
Runt nodded. “It’s the River Man’s,” he said.
“The River Man?” Bart prompted, though he already knew the answer.
“That’s what most people call him,” Runt said. “Don’t know why.”
Bart nodded. Glancing around, he laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder and gently directed him to move further down the side of the inn so they wouldn’t be in close proximity to the door.
“Do you know where I could find him?” asked Bart.
“Uh huh,” the boy replied. Then he pointed to the tall spires of the castle. “He lives there.”
Bart had been afraid of that. “Really?” he asked, feigning disbelief. “I thought he would have been a wine merchant.”
The boy looked at him quizzically. “What made you think that?” he asked.
“I’m working with agents of a wine merchant who are here to procure a contract for a certain wine he had been told may be on the market now,” he explained. Taking the piece of parchment from the boy he added, “This crest was on the bottle.”
“Don’t know anything about that,” the boy stated.
“Are there any wine merchants nearby?” Bart asked.
“Most of the better ones are near the castle,” he explained. “I heard that Torrim’s was supposed to be one of the best.”
