Anders awoke to the trickling tune of shallow tidal waves sifting through porous sand. The sun’s heat bore down on his face as he lay on his back. With his body half beached in the sand and half adrift in the shallow surf, he ached like he’d been beaten with a bullwhip. The scent of the salty ocean filled his nostrils as he gasped for air and coughed up water, forcing him to roll onto his side. Finally able to breathe easily again, Anders could hear birds singing in the trees on the hillside above him. A slow breeze swept over the ground, chilling his wet body.
With a tired heave, he rolled himself onto his back and felt the slightly warmer temperature of the salty water flow up and down along his waistline. All he wanted to do was lay still and ignore his problems, letting them wash away and be carried out with the ebbing tide. He wished in that moment for his old, uncomplicated life, the comfortable life before Ivan appeared at the family farm.
With his legs slightly suspended in the waves and his back nestled in the soft sand, Anders let go of his grasp on reality. His mind wandered freely. Becoming in tune with his surroundings, he felt as though his mind was reaching out and communicating with the soul of the world, a resonating energy passing harmoniously between his body and his surroundings.
Like a crack of thunder, a voice sucked him back to reality, Anders, Anders! Are you okay? Angry to have been ripped out of his blissful state, Anders sat up and looked around for whoever had disturbed him. The voice called to him again, Anders, I can sense you, are you okay? The shock of the sudden voice, combined with dehydration and stress, made him cringe as the slow throb of a headache crept its way into his consciousness. Anders squinted to shade his eyes with his bushy brown eyebrows and scanned his immediate surroundings for whoever was calling to him, but he couldn’t see anyone. He was confused.
Am I going insane? he thought to himself.
Anders, it’s Ivan. You can’t see me right now, but I know you can hear me. Are you all right? the voice said.
Anders responded out loud, “How are you doing that? I can’t see you. Where are you?”
It’s something sorcerers can do. I’m extending my mind into yours, so we can talk to each other. I’ve been searching the area for hours with my senses but haven’t been able to feel your thoughts until just recently. All of a sudden you showed up like a beacon, Ivan’s voice said.
“How is that possible?” Anders asked, his headache growing from a slow throb to a pulsating stab of pain.
It’s a part of the magic I can still control. I need to know where you are so we can find you. For some reason I cannot sense your location, I can only feel the presence of your mind. Our ship was destroyed and most of the crew was lost. I was able to reach Max; he’s with me now. Others survived as well, but they’re scattered along the shoreline and their thoughts are too distant for me to sense clearly, Ivan said.
Anders rose to his feet stiffly. Still somewhat groggy, Anders examined his surroundings and attempted to get his bearings. Behind him stood a large hill covered in thick trees and vegetation. To his right down the coastline a broad section of cliffs jutted up, protruding skyward from the water’s edge. As he looked at them, he began to focus on the sharp outline of the rock formation.
“Ouch,” he said aloud, wincing at the sudden intrusion of Ivan’s voice as it sounded in his mind once more.
I know where you are. We’ll meet you at the top of those cliffs down the beach from you.
“You have to stop that,” Anders said out loud, knowing Ivan was still reading his thoughts. “I have a splitting headache and every time your voice comes into my head it sounds like a thousand bells are ringing all at once.”
Sorry, Ivan said, but it’s the only way I can communicate with you right now. Can you meet us at the top of those cliffs?
Anders responded, this time in his thoughts, My body hurts something awful, but I think I can make it there all right.
Good, Ivan said. It will take Max and me about a half hour to get there. We are on the opposite side of the cliffs from you.
Anders felt the pain in his head subside slightly as Ivan left his mind. Feeling stiff as a board, he half-heartedly attempted to stretch out his limbs before starting for the cliffs.
It took him longer than expected to walk through the thick vegetation carpeting the slope. Scrambling along the wet hillside covered with moss and ferns, Anders zigzagged uphill along the cliffs. The slope steepened as he climbed higher. Out of breath and weak in the knees, he finally made it to the top to see Ivan and Max waiting patiently. The two were sitting on a downed tree just upslope of the cliff’s edge. Anders was slightly irritated by how comfortable they looked.
Max waved him over to join them. He sat down heavily on the log, tired from his climb. Not saying a word, Anders looked out over the vast view of the ocean. The peaceful expanse from atop the cliff was spectacular. It cleared Anders of his irritation with Max and Ivan. The marvelous view was, however, an illusion of what had been and not what is. He sat for a moment in silence absorbing the singular moment of beauty before he would have to face the harsh reality of their predicament.
“What do we do now?” Anders asked Ivan, giving him a look as if he were truly lost.
“The only thing we can,” Ivan said seriously.
“And what exactly is that?” Anders was frustrated with the situation.
“We must find Red and any others that may have survived the wreck. Then we will continue our journey on foot.” Ivan got up off the log without looking at Anders or Max and began to walk down the hill from the top of the cliff.
“Well that sounds about right,” Anders said to Max.
“What do you mean,” Max asked.
“I don’t know what’s real anymore,” he continued. “Everything I thought I knew about my life has just been flipped upside down. An evil beast riding a giant hound attacks my home, murders my uncle, and kidnaps the only family I have left. Now this guy shows up blasting energy from his hands and he can even read my thoughts. Everything is all screwed up; it’s like a nightmare I can’t escape. What’s next, dragons and demons?” Anders said in a half-crazed voice.
“Be real, dragons haven’t been seen in the five kingdoms of Kartania since long before The War of the Magicians. They either went extinct or are too busy sleeping in caves to be bothered with the problems of humans,” Max said. “I know it’s been hard to face the reality of all this, but for now we need to accept what happened and move on. Pretending it never happened or running away from it won’t bring back the people who were taken from us. I don’t know if my brother is dead or alive, but I’m going to assume he’s alive and I’m not going to give up until I free him from the soldiers who took him.” Max was on his feet breathing heavily after letting his emotions rile him.
“You’re right,” Anders said, pushing his tired body off the fallen tree. “I need to accept that what happened is real and I need to do whatever it takes to find my cousins.”
Anders and Max caught up with Ivan on the beach after swiftly scaling down from the cliff with a rejuvenated sense of determination.
“Do you know where Red is?” Anders asked, once they were walking alongside him. He assumed Ivan could sense Red using his mind.
“He’s far away, so it’s hard to tell the exact location,” he pointed in the direction they were walking. “All I know for sure is that he’s alive.”
“Where will we go after we locate the remaining survivors of the wreck?” Max asked Ivan.
“We need to reach a spot where we can send a message to the Rollo Islanders before their warships sail past us. If we can send a messenger to intercept them with a planned location for a rendezvous, we can join forces and continue our search for Thargon’s ships.”
“Brookside is only a few day’s walk from here,” Max said. “I have family there who could help us.”
“Yes,” Ivan said as if he were remembering something he had forgotten. “There is a man there who goes by the name of Solomon, do you know of him?”
“Of course I know Solomon!” Max exclaimed. “He’s a dear friend of mine. Why do you ask?”
“He has a great wealth of knowledge and may be able to answer a few of my questions,” Ivan said.
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Solomon?” Max asked.
“I know he is odd at times, but he’s been around for a long time and has helped me before,” Ivan said, confident that the old man would be of assistance to their quest.
“Sounds like a plan,” Anders said.
Together the three of them walked along the coastline searching for Red and any other survivors. Anders squinted to see a couple figures far off in the distance, moving along the beach. “Look!” he remarked pointing down the sandy shoreline in front of them.
“Yes, that would be our bull-headed captain,” Ivan said seeing Red’s silhouette in the distance. “And there are two others with him. Part of his crew.”
“That’s creepy how you can do that with nothing else but your mind,” Max said.
“Helpful, not creepy,” Ivan corrected him. “I’m not nearly as formidable as I once was. At one time in my life I could sense people from much greater distances, among other things. But those days are farther from me than I like to think.”
“Creepy, but amazing,” Max said, and Ivan gave him a look.
Anders felt better knowing that Ivan could tell whether the people far down the beach were friends or foes, although he was still unsure how he felt about the idea of having a sorcerer around. He wondered what had convinced his uncle that Ivan was dead; because he’d always told Anders since he was little that magic no longer existed in the world.
Did that mean Ivan was the last magician? No, because Thargon had used magic in Grandwood. Thinking about it made his head hurt, so he dismissed the thought to another time when he could devote more energy to it.
Red, along with two other men, had been surprised to see all three of them alive and well.
“The gods were good to let us live,” Red said, grabbing each one of them and embracing them with a soggy hug. “We drifted ashore late last night. After the ship went down, I found a piece of wreckage and was able to grab these two lads before they drowned,” Red said pointing to the men. “We have been up and down the shore, but didn’t see any sign of other survivors, until you.”
“It was a long, cold night. We were all lucky to survive it,” Ivan said trying to guilt Red a bit for sailing them into the storm. Red forced a cough, realizing Ivan’s implication. “We need to send word to your people before they sail past us where it will be harder to join them,” Ivan added, ending the awkward silence.
“I agree,” Red said. “I’m not familiar with this area. Is there a town close by where we can send a messenger bird?” he asked.
Ivan explained their plan to make the multi-day trek to Brookside.
“It’s about three or four days from here,” Max said. “I traveled to Grandwood on the trail just north of here. Once we bushwhack our way to the trail, the going will be easier than walking through the sand.”
“That sounds like as good a plan as any,” Red agreed, happy to have the next part of their adventure prepared for him.
“I have heard reports of goblins emerging from caves along the base of the Sharpstone Mountains, near Brookside,” Ivan added.
“Goblins? Seriously, you believe in goblins?” Anders asked.
“After what you’ve seen over the last several days, I’m surprised you don’t take my word more seriously,” Ivan said glaring icily at Anders.
“He’s got a point,” Max said.
“Yeah, but come on, goblins are just folklore,” Anders said. “They’re stories to keep children from wandering out of their beds at night. They don’t really exist…” he trailed off into his own thoughts, considering the horrifying possibility of an actual horde of goblins rooting around in the foothills bordering Brookside.
“I have heard stories of them from reliable people,” Max said. “I didn’t have any trouble on my way over from Brookside, so they may have moved out of the area.”
“Either way, we should get a move on if we want to reach Brookside and send word before my people sail past us,” Red said.
Anders and the others followed Max as he pulled apart the thick growth of bramble and brush and led them toward the trail that meandered from the Grandwood Mountains to Brookside. Reaching the hard-packed dirt path, Ivan pulled Red aside while the others continued on ahead.
“Listen, and you listen good,” Ivan said sternly, gripping Red by the collar of his tattered shirt. “You almost cost all of us our lives back there on that ship. It took me nearly every ounce of magic I possess to ensure the four of us didn’t die when Thargon’s wind wrecked our ship. My magic is nearly depleted and it will take me several days to regain my strength, so we’d better not run into any goblins because I won’t be able to do anything to stop them from slitting our throats while we sleep. I didn’t spend a good portion of my life fighting in a war that nearly ended Kartania’s existence and travel all this way to be led into a death trap by an inexperienced, eager-to-prove-his-self-worth child! From now on, I’m in charge of this outfit and you’ll do as I command. Is that perfectly clear?”
Red furrowed his brow and clenched his jaw. Grumbling, he said, “Yes, sir,” and the two of them continued on behind the others.
The next morning Anders watched the sun slowly rise out of the eastern horizon, reflecting a golden hue off the water’s edge. Mountain snowmelt fed into the lake where they’d decided to camp. Kneeling, Anders bent down and cupped cold lake water into his hands. Splashing it over his face, he found himself momentarily engulfed by its icy grip. It sent a chill through his body that invigorated him. He thought it might have the same effect on him that caffeine did, pulling him out of the sleepy fog that clouded his mind during the early morning hours.
Anders was alone. He’d awakened early and couldn’t fall back asleep. Letting the cold water trickle down his face, he noticed a rustling in some tightly grouped willows to his left. Suddenly alert, he sat still, listening intently. His now-sharp eyes darted around the area as his body remained perfectly still. He was fully awake now, but hoped the noise was a figment of his imagination stemming from his lack of sleep. Slowly reaching his hand to his waist where his knife was holstered, he prepared for the worst. Blade in hand, he turned to face the brush where the noise had originated. A squirrel sprang out and scurried up a tree. Cursing himself for being so on edge, he took several deep breaths and slowed his heart rate. Then he laughed for having been so worried and tucked his blade back into its sheath.
Feeling foolish, he walked back to camp. Ivan, Red, Max and the other two Rollo warriors were now awake and preparing to leave. Anders gathered what few belongings he had: his bow and three arrows, a canteen, a small pouch of coins, and some flint for starting fires. The only other things he possessed were the clothes on his back and the knife holstered to his belt. He’d found the canteen and pouch of coins among the wreckage that washed ashore, but decided to leave some larger items behind. The group was anxious to make good time, so they’d decided to travel light.
“You ready to hump it all day?” Max asked enthusiastically.
Anders looked at him with a slightly confused and embarrassed look, and asked, “Wha… What do you mean by hump it all day?”
“You know,” Max said, gesturing to his legs. “Hike across the hills for the whole day. We still have at least two days of humping to get to Brookside. I know my feet will need a good soaking in hot water when we’re through with this one. What did you think I meant?” he asked Anders, recognizing the strange look on his face when he’d first asked him the question.
“Oh, nothing,” Anders said quickly. “I knew what you were talking about.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded at Max, hoping he wouldn’t keep digging into it.
The roughneck crew of shipwrecked men walked all day. They crossed countless rolling hills, trekking through green grass and lush trees. They’d been walking for an unusually long time without anyone saying a word, when Max broke the silence.
“Hey, Ivan,” he said.
“What?” Ivan replied shortly. Anders could hear the irritation in his voice when answering Max’s questions over the last several days.
“Tell me a story about when you were in the war,” Max said cheerfully. “How about when you first joined the army, what was that like?”
“I don’t feel like talking about that,” Ivan replied gruffly. Max’s disappointed sigh could be heard nearly a mile away.
“What about how you and Theodor met? You served with him, didn’t you?” Ivan glanced back at him as he spoke. “How did you two become friends?” Max continued, hoping Ivan would break and divulge something about his past.
Ivan paused for a moment, struggling to find words. He began to speak, slowly at first, and faster as the story flowed out.
“Theodor, Anders’ uncle, and I… were from different towns in Southland. Back in those days, the King’s army sent recruiting officers to get young men to sign up and join them. When they came to each town, the recruiters would set up obstacle courses in the town square and hold contests. As one can imagine, each contest was physically demanding and catered toward those who were the strongest and fastest. I won most of the competitions each time they came to my town. Ever since I was old enough to think for myself, I wanted to be soldier. When I became of age, I didn’t even blink twice before signing up for the King’s army.
“All of the recruits within Southland went to the same training camp. After six weeks of training, the recruits were assigned to divisions. Most people were placed into the infantry or cavalry, as more bodies are needed at the front lines during a war. Numbers were typically what won wars back then.
“Theodor and I were sent to the same camp and were both placed in bunkhouse thirteen, which became our training squad. During our first week of training, it became clear that I was going to be our squad’s leader. Theodor, however, needed some encouragement and drive to do what was expected of a new recruit. You see, he was underperforming and didn’t take the training very seriously. I was very committed to my role as our squad’s leader and began to help Theodor. When you have to rely on each other in a setting like that, you are only as good as your weakest person.
“Theodor told me briefly after meeting that he was forced to join the army by his father, who would strip him of his family rights if he didn’t do his part for the war effort. He didn’t want to dishonor his family name, so he joined reluctantly.
“Looking back on it now, I was a little harsh with him at first. We spent extra time in the mornings and evenings going through the drills. I helped him find his role in our group and after several weeks his improvements were leaps and bounds above any other person at the training facilities. We became quite close during those six weeks,” Ivan paused for a while, looking up at the sky.
With a long exhale he continued, “Once our squad’s training was complete, we were assigned and placed into our new roles. Theodor and I were posted to different divisions and didn’t see much of each other for a long time after that.”
“I thought you two served together during the war?” Max interrupted.
“We did serve together when the war reached its peak. But after training camp, we both went our separate ways for several years before our paths crossed again,” Ivan said succinctly.
Ivan quickened his pace to put some distance between himself and the others and walked in silence, clearly not wanting to say anymore. Anders wondered if there was something Ivan wasn’t telling them, and he wanted to know, he deserved to know.
“Please continue,” Anders urged Ivan as he jogged to catch up with him.
Anders could tell Ivan didn’t want to continue but knew Anders wouldn’t let him end where he’d attempted to, so begrudgingly he picked up where he’d left off.
“Theodor was placed in the cavalry as a marksman. He had a special talent with his bow that not many could rival. I was sent off to an officers’ training program to further my role as a leader,” Ivan stopped at a small stream flowing across the trail. “Red,” he hollered at the Rollo warrior who was walking with his men several yards in front of them. “Let’s hold up here for a moment,” Ivan commanded.
Max and Anders took this opportunity to sit and rest their feet. Ivan stopped and drank from the stream.
“Theodor never talked about his time during The War of the Magicians,” Anders said. “Thank you for talking about it with us. It seems there’s a lot about my uncle that I didn’t know.”
Anders felt Ivan was holding something back and wasn’t telling him everything about his uncle’s part of the story, but reading the current situation, he knew now was not the time to ask. If he did and wasn’t sensible about it, Ivan might clam up and never talk about his uncle with him again. Anders had the over-whelming feeling that Ivan knew things about his family that could help him discover where he came from, perhaps even who his parents were.
“We have about two more hours of daylight; we should consider making camp soon,” Red said to the group.
“There’s a place coming up where I’ve camped many times before,” Max said.
“We will camp there,” Ivan said, speaking as if Max’s idea were his own.
Max rolled his eyes and sat next to Anders on the side of the trail. Whispering, he asked, “Did you get the feeling he wasn’t telling us the whole story?”
Anders nodded and replied, “He’s hiding something all right.”
Once they’d set up camp, Anders and the four others set out in search of firewood while Ivan went hunting for their dinner. By the time they returned with armloads of sticks and sizeable broken branches, Ivan was already preparing a small deer he’d killed. Anders noticed that the deer didn’t have any arrow wound like he’d seen in the deer he’d hunted. The deer was definitely dead; Ivan had already begun slicing off pieces of meat for their meal.
Anders and the others sorted the wood they’d gathered into piles according to size and diameter.
“The key to preparing a good fire is first to have four different-sized wood piles ready when you go to light it,” Red said as if he were showing them how to build a fire for the first time. “First you need two large handfuls of straw-sized twigs, then a bundle of finger-sized wood. Next, a bundle slightly larger in diameter goes on the fire. And finally, once that’s burned and you have your bed of coals, put on your larger logs.” He demonstrated by lighting some dry grass and placing the bundles on one at a time as he spoke.
Anders leaned over to Max and whispered, “I’m not a child. I know how to build a fire.” They both rolled their eyes and tried to ignore Red’s arrogant demonstration.
“Or,” Ivan said. “You can do this.” He pointed to a log that was not on the fire and whispered to himself. The log burst into flames and he chuckled.
“Not all of us are magicians,” Red said angrily.
“Thank the gods for that,” Ivan said in response. “That is the last thing this world needs, more sorcerers to mess up what the natural world already provides. And only non-magical people call us magicians; the proper term is sorcerer.”
Anders thought it was strange that he had that kind of outlook on magic, seeing as he was someone who could wield it.
“I see the magician has regained his strength,” Red said mockingly.
Ivan shot him a deadly glare that made Red turn away from him and continue to put wood on the fire. Ivan went back to preparing the meat for the six of them. Soon all of them had bellies full of fresh venison. They washed it down with the crisp cold water gathered from a nearby creek. Exhausted from the day’s travel, they were all sound asleep before long.
The next day they walked across the base of the Sharpstone Mountain Range. Anders hiked at a distance from the others using the time alone to ponder during their trek. He was angry with Red for not seeing that the storm they sailed into was a trap and Ivan for not stopping it, but mostly he missed his cousins. They were like brother and sister to him. Anders controlled his anger by keeping his thoughts to himself and staying away from the others while he fumed in solitude.
He also used this time to think about Theodor and Ivan’s shared history. He wanted to know if Ivan was born with the ability to use magic or if he became magical through some kind of transformative process. Anders could tell there was more to what Ivan told him about his relationship with Theodor and considered asking him about it. Before he did, Anders remembered that Ivan told him there was a time and a place where he would tell Anders everything, besides Anders was still irritated with Ivan, so he decided to wait.
Anders found it difficult to trust Ivan because he didn’t know much about him, but it did seem as though Ivan was doing everything in his power to help as he had agreed on the ship. Anders found himself realizing that he only really trusted Max, who had never given him any reason not to.
Ivan had them set up camp that night in the center of a long narrow valley. He wanted Anders to accompany him while he hunted for their supper, so Anders agreed and brought along his bow and three arrows. They hadn’t been gone long before a thick fog surrounded them. It wafted through the air and blanketed the two so they couldn’t see much farther than their immediate surroundings. Ivan told Anders not to worry about getting lost as long as he stayed close to him, because he could sense where camp and the others were.
The setting sun could only be seen as a bright orange circle through the fog. It dropped steadily lower, nearing the horizon. Ivan had killed three rabbits with his mind, snapping their necks as they tried to escape. It was getting dark when he suggested they head back to camp.
Anders bent down to pick up the last dead rabbit. As he scooped it into his hand, he thought he saw a person standing in front of him through the fog. When he looked closer, it was gone. Anders got Ivan’s attention by making a ‘psst’ noise.
“I think I saw someone in the fog just now,” he said.
“That’s strange,” concern flooded Ivan’s voice. “I don’t sense anyone.”
The two of them peered intently toward where Anders had seen something or someone. Then Anders saw the dark shape again, this time moving. It slunk low to the ground and darted from behind a boulder to a nearby tree.
“There!” Anders said, pointing to the shadowy figure as it moved across the misty foreground.
Ivan shot a burst of energy from his hand toward it. Anders saw chunks of bark blow off the tree and knew he’d missed. Anders drew his bow and aimed toward the tree where he’d last seen the figure. He moved closer toward it, arrow nocked and ready to fire. The shadowy figure bolted as soon as Anders drew near. He let his arrow fly; shooting in the direction he saw it fleeing. There was a screech and he knew he’d hit it.
The two of them approached the figure with caution. Anders had struck it right in the side, mid-ribcage. Getting a good look at it, he didn’t know what kind of creature it was. He’d never seen anything like it. It had two arms and legs in the same way humans do, but its skin was dark green in color and the creature had wiry gray hairs covering most of its body.
“What is that?” Anders asked curling his upper lip in distaste.
Ivan knelt down beside it and began searching its pockets for anything of value. “It’s a goblin,” Ivan said. “My guess is it’s a scout, probably one of a group of scouts. There will be more, lots more. Goblins travel in hordes and move quickly. We need to go.”
He paused at the sound of light footsteps trotting up behind them. Ivan turned and to see another goblin and swiftly shot his hand out, snapping its neck with an accurately placed flow of energy.
“We need to get back to the others,” Ivan said. “The only reason we’re not already dead is because of this fog.”
Together they ran back down to camp. Seeing them come sprinting from out of the fog, the others rose to attention.
“Put that fire out and get your things, we need to leave now!” Ivan commanded, kicking dirt over the flames of their newly made campfire.
“What’s going on?” Red asked, confused but helping stomp out the fire because of Ivan’s serious tone.
“Goblin scouts,” Ivan said quickly. “We killed two of them in the fog. There will be a horde behind them.”
“The rumors were true,” Max said as he scrambled to find his few belongings.
Within a minute they’d erased any sign of having made a camp. Ivan used his magic to disguise the smoldering coals as a pile of rocks. Together they moved down a shallow gully and ran as fast as they could in the direction of Brookside.
Soon it was pitch black and Ivan figured they had run far enough to stay hidden and out of the way of the goblins behind them. They found a small cave to sleep in for the night. The group went without dinner or the warmth of a fire.
While lying on the cold rocky cave floor, Anders whispered to Ivan, “Why couldn’t you sense the goblins when they were so close to us?”
Ivan responded, “They are magical creatures, Anders. Though their magical abilities are primitive, the powers they do possess are very strong. If a goblin is trained, he or she can be a very skilled wielder of magical energy. All goblins can instinctively prevent their minds from ever being discovered by other magical beings. They’re truly nasty creatures and are always causing mischief wherever they go. They only possess one weakness; goblins will do almost anything for gold. Did you notice I searched the one you killed? He was carrying gold, but I never feel bad taking gold off a goblin, because you know they did something terrible to get it in the first place. The way I see it, taking it off their dead bodies puts it back into the hands of hard-working people; I’ll use it to buy and trade at markets. Do you know what those goblins would’ve done if they had captured us?”
Anders shook his head.
“If those goblins had gotten ahold of us, they would’ve tortured us for fun, then killed us and taken anything of value for themselves. It was lucky that fog hid our presence, otherwise we would find ourselves in much different circumstances.”
Anders shuddered at the thought of being tortured by one of those nasty creatures. The world outside Grandwood was all very new to him and he was just trying to get through it to save his cousins.
“Get some rest. We’ll need our strength for the last leg of our journey tomorrow,” Ivan said rolling onto his side and closing his eyes.
The following morning, the tired group filed one-by-one out of the cave. The six of them walked low staying below the skyline so they wouldn’t be seen by any goblins that may be wandering nearby.
“They’ll be on the lookout for whoever killed their two scouts,” Ivan said to the group before leaving the cave. “So we’d better stay low and stick to the gullies.”
By noon they had made it a good way across the base of the mountains west of Brookside. Looking down into the valley below, Max was the first to spot the small town.
“We should be safe to walk on the road now that we’re closer to Brookside,” Max said. “We have patrols who keep the outskirts of town safe from bandits and other nasty things.”
They found the road that led to town and stuck to it for the rest of the day. They passed several small farms and people riding in wagons full of early-season harvested goods as they came into town. At the gate they stated their names and business to the guards, who let them in.
“I’m tired. Take us to an inn where we can get a good meal and hot bath,” Ivan said to Max upon entering the town. “We’ll attempt to send word to the Rollo warships and find old man Solomon tomorrow.”
Max nodded and took them to the Brookside Inn where they devoured a warm meal and scrubbed the journey’s dirt and bad luck off in a hot bath.