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Chapter 5: Unexpected Allies

The men drew their blades and rushed, but whirled in astonishment as a deep voice came from the nearby alley. "Hold!" The man from the alley stood there in his brown robe that looked black now that night had fallen. Junan hissed in surprise.

"Don't involve yourself in someone else's affairs, old man," he said. "Especially if you don't know what you are dealing with."

"I see four ruffians, men, threatening two boys who have the guts to stand up to you. I'm making it my affair. If you leave..."

"Last chance to leave with your life," interrupted Junan.

"If you leave now," continued the stranger in an even tone, "I'll let you live."

The two men to Junan's left, closest to the stranger, rushed him. With one smooth movement, his robe slid to the ground, and a swish of air ended in a thud as the first of Junan's companions was stretched on the ground with blood oozing from his head. Before the others could see what happened, a swish and the other man sank to his knees holding his neck. Somehow, a short staff had sprang into the stranger's hands with a blade at each end. Both blades were darkened with streaks. Revealed now were his broad shoulders, and thickly corded limbs and neck.

"Please don't kill their leader," said Javan quickly, then sprang at the first one who had blocked their way. Shocked, he brought his sword up just in time to parry Javan's slash, and a clang rang out in the night. However, the death of half his party in the blink of an eye had disheartened him, and he fought a desperate fight. Javan beat the sword with renewed vigor, but his lack of experience and fatigue soon would have had him dead or injured, if he hadn't gotten lucky.

Javan parried Garthan's blow, and by luck the angle at which he parried it was too much for the blade's guard. As Javan's sword knocked Garthan's aside, the blade angled over the guard and cut the man's fingers. The next blow knocked the slightly curving blade from his hands, and with a flick, Javan halted his sword at the man's neck. The tip pressed the skin, but did not pierce. They both breathed heavily for a moment. No noise came from behind Javan, and he could not see what was happening with Junan.

"I'll not kill you tonight, if you carry a message," he said. Garthan stood there, his eyes shooting darts at Javan. "Tell Neek that Hogarth is no longer his. If he doesn't stop pursuing us, I will return, and Neek will regret it."

Garthan smiled. "You think..." he swallowed, the blade pressing his skin uncomfortably. "You think yer a threat to us? There's nowheres yer can run where yer'll be safe, 'specially now."

Javan smiled, too. "Oft the hunter becomes the hunted," he quoted an old adage. Garthan backed up, turned around, and ran off into the night, leaving his sword on the ground.

He turned to see Junan on the ground, still. Hogarth stood pretty much where they had stopped, and had been watching Javan. He coughed into his sleeve, hawked, and spat. The stranger stood behind Junan, also watching. He had replaced his robe on his shoulders, and the staff had disappeared.

"Well done," he said in his sonorous voice. "I knocked out your other friend. Usually the guards hear such a fight, but it seems that Neek has paid them to be somewhere else tonight. You must be pretty important to him," he said to the younger boy. Hogarth merely grunted, then coughed a phlegmy cough again. "I am Halberad Ubern."

"I am called Javan, from Goth," Javan replied.

"I am Hogarth, from Calembarey." Hogarth coughed again.

"Thank you for your help. I'm afraid we would have been caught if it weren't for you."

"Always a pleasure, especially if it tweaks the nose of Neek. We should get inside, though, because the guard will come along soon, and they probably won't ask too many questions before they jail us. I'll have to take care of this one, though," he pointed at Junan.

"Junan," said Hogarth.

Halberad's eyes widened in momentary surprise. "Yes, well what do you suggest?" he asked as he bent down. He rolled Junan over, and a groan came out of him. Quickly, he produced a length of rope, cut it shorter with his knife, and lashed the man's hands behind his back. At the end of this, Junan was beginning to stir. He chopped the back of Junan's neck with the edge of his hand, and Junan went limp again.

"Now, what would you like to do with him?" The boys looked at him. Hogarth was about to suggest something, but Javan kicked him lightly in the shin.

"We can't kill him. Perhaps we could gag him and leave him somewhere out of sight?"

"By reputation, this is not a man to leave alive behind your back, with a grudge against you."

"And yet, I would not kill." Javan shuddered, and for some reason he couldn't fathom, said, "He has not yet played his part. His fate is with the gods, and I dare not intervene."

"All right," said Halberad with heightened respect. "Help me." They tied a knotted rag tightly around his mouth, then lifted him, grunting with his weight. While they worked, Halberad could not help but wonder about this boy. My instincts were right, he thought. They lugged the bound man down the alleyway Hogarth had been sitting in when they first saw him. At the end, it went around a corner and behind the building. There was a pile of trash and empty crates. They laid him down, and tied his feet. "That'll hold him for a while," said Halberad. "Now, where are you staying?"

"Nowhere yet."

"Stay with me. I am at this inn yonder," Halberad gestured at the building next to which he had been sitting. "Young Hogarth could use some hearty soup, by the sound of him."

"Please, sir, we couldn't impose," said Javan. The inn looked to be a bit nice, probably more than they could afford.

"I insist. Follow me, please." Halberad turned and glided toward the door a few fathoms away. His walk seemed so catlike, and his movements so fluid, that one couldn't just say he 'walked'. A shiver went down Javan's neck, and he was instantly reminded of the Knights of Ki. The two followed, Hogarth stifling another cough.

Halberad paid for a hot meal in the common room. The two boys didn't speak while they wolfed down the food. When they were done, they sat back. Afterwards (especially after the bean and beef soup that was acclaimed by the older man), Hogarth felt much better, and his coughing was pretty much stopped. Javan felt a warm glow spreading from his middle. The three huddled over their empty plates, talking in low tones.

"Please excuse my impertinence, sir, but who are you?" asked Javan. "I have never seen anyone fight, or move, quite like you before."

Halberad sighed. "I was a warrior, of a sort," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "And a teacher. I've been to all the known lands, in many campaigns. But that's a long tale. Tell me, if you would, are you simply running from Neek, or are you going somewhere?"

Javan and Hogarth were on guard. They felt very uncomfortable being questioned like this, especially after an all-too-convenient rescue and a meal. Javan cleared his throat, and Hogarth nervously wiped his face.

"Of course," said the man, "you are naturally cautious. Good, I see you have learned a valuable lesson. The common room is not a good place for such discussions, anyway. If you trust me enough, we could go back to my room. I think you could use a good night's rest on a bed, and I had some more bedding put in. Now, I don't mean this as a threat, but I could have done you in if I had wanted to long before now. This will give me a chance to show you I am true."

The boys nodded. As the waitress showed up to clear the table, they arose. Halberad led them down a hall, up some stairs, and to a corner room. As he had said, there were two sets of bedding set up on the floor. The room was pretty spacious, with a warm glow coming from its own fireplace. The windows were shuttered tightly, and candles provided plenty of light.

As the two started to open their mouths to ask a question, the man held up one hand. "Tomorrow. Rest. Your journey has been a bit difficult so far." They mumbled their thankyou's, and were practically asleep as soon as they laid down.

be5fa

Vladem chuckled. It wasn't a light-hearted chuckle. It was the chuckle of one who has wanted something for a long time, and was just about to get it by taking it from someone else. The chest full of priceless treasures, topped with the crown of Selenedor, lay behind the heavy wooden door (a vague, nagging question tore at the back of his brain as to how he knew the chest was there). A hole in the door allowed one to open the latch, but his fingers were too fat to fit in the hole, and he couldn't find anything to push in. Hogarth! The kid could do it.

He turned, opening his mouth to shout, and there stood Hogarth. It was Hogarth's body, but his face seemed older, like a young man's. Somehow, this did not seem strange to him.

"Open the door, my son," Vladem said with an evil grin. Hogarth's face didn't change expression. He simply moved forward. He leaned closer, looked at the door, then leaned back. Turning, he started to run away down the hall. Vladem lunged, reaching for his shoulder, but his hand slid off the slick cloth. "Come back here, you ungrateful cur!" He ran after, leapt, and grabbed the boy with both hands. His hands had gripped the boy's upper arms. But now, the boy was different. He was a pillar of light, light so bright it hurt. He shut his eyes against it, but the light pierced through the closed lids of his eyes. It seemed the light had the shape of a hawk - the hawk of the Knights of the Order of Ki.

Struggling, Vladem awoke from his dream. A beam of sunlight shone in from the window and struck his face, and he realized that someone had pounded on the door. "Come," he said, his voice hoarse. The visions of the dream still haunted him. Suddenly, a hawk called from outside, and he shuddered.

"Sir, a messenger from Freemount." It was one of his servants.

"Important enough to wake me? This better be good," he growled. He was in an especially bad mood.

A sallow man pushed past the servant. "It is. Junan sends word."

Vladem sat up, and motioned the servant to leave. As he shut the door, Vladem noticed the road dust on the man's clothes, and the sweat on his brow. He nodded.

"Hogarth and the other escaped from Junan, and made towards Freemount. He has set up a trap, and should have the boys on their way here by now."

Vladem smiled. "Wonderful! Wash up and have breakfast with me." The messenger was startled at this man's uncommon good mood, especially at the swing from the complete opposite the moment before. Vladem clapped, and the servant appeared again. "Have breakfast for both of us served on the morning porch. And take this man to the baths." The servant bowed and exited, the pallid stranger following.

As enraged as Vladem had been not to have heard from Junan for so long, he was now happy, anticipating the punishment he would wreak on the two uppity boys. Visions of blood and screams floated through his mind as he washed his face and dressed. He smiled.

He joined the Freemount man at a wrought-iron table on a flagged-stone porch, laden with fruits, wine, cheese and breads. "Tell me your name," said Neek.

"Harad, sir," said the man, with some trepidation.

"Harad, you have made my morning. I shall send you back home full and refreshed."

"I am honored, sir."

They made small talk for a while, but were interrupted by the servant again. "Another messenger from Freemount, sir. Rode his mount to the death to get here."

"Send him in! Send him in." Vladem hummed happily as he munched on a heel of bread. A bedraggled, disheveled man staggered in, sweat lathering his face. "Come, man, have a sip of wine. Servant! Another glass!" After the man had drunk a bit, Vladem asked as he struggled to catch his breath, "Tell me your name."

"Garthan, sir," he breathed, finally catching his breath.

"What message bring you?"

"'Bout Junan and his hunt." Garthan started breathing normally, now. He rubbed his neck reflexively, where Javan's sword point had pressed the night before.

"So? How far away are they from Calembarey?"

The man's face went bloodless, and he trembled. "I -- don't know, sir."

"OK, when did they leave Freemount for here?"

"They didn't. A stranger killed two of our'n men in a flash, and I don't know what they's did with Junan. Ther two boys, they went off with 'im."

Neek's demeanor changed so completely, that everyone there trembled in fear. "WHAT?!" he exploded, food flying from his mouth. He stood up so suddenly, his chair went flying backward. Both messengers trembled, fearing for their lives, but they feared more to leave now. They were sure if they ran away, the vengeance visited upon them would extend to their families.

"We w-w-were outnumbered," stammered Garthan.

"By a man and two boys!" spat Vladem. "How is it you were spared?" his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"The older boy s-said t-t-ta give yer a m-m-message."

Vladem breathed in, and calmed down into a controlled expression. Even more than before, Garthan was afraid. "What was that message?" asked Neek flatly.

"Hogarth is no longer your'n. If'n yer don't stop follerin' them, he'll return, and yer'll regrets it. 'E said no ter follow, becuase oft the hunter becomes the hunted." As he said it, he cringed inwardly, and winced outwardly. "I told him..."

"Enough!" the word was flung out like a whip. He stood still for a few breaths. "How is it," he said through gritted teeth, "that you were outnumbered by only three?"

Garthan swallowed. He considered lying, but thought better of it. Neek had ways of finding out. "We set up an ambush of four of us fer th'two boys. We thought 'twould be enough, but some kind of fighter man interfered. The guards'd been bribed, so 'twas not one of them."

"Tell me about him."

"Nimble as a panther, p'raps ten years yer senior. I couldn't see what kinder weapon 'e had, he moved too fast. B'fore I could see, two men were dead on the ground, an' 'e knocks out Junan."

"Then he beat you?"

"No, sir, 'tother boy did." He looked down at his bandaged hand, and Neek glanced there too.

"Is that it?" said Neek, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"No, sir. B'fore I left, I sent out word ter have our boys, meaning our men, keep an eye out fer the bastards. Gave them a description, and told them..." he swallowed and hesitated.

"Told them what?"

"Told them yer'd give 'em a reward fer their capture."

Neek breathed a few more breaths. "All right, Garthan, you'll live." Garthan breathed a sigh. "If it weren't for the fact you completely bungled their capture, I'd say you did all right. However, you totally underestimated those boys," Vladem said, suppressing his rage. "Never again send too few to the party." Garthan began bowing. "A month's earnings in penalty."

"Yes, sir!" said Garthan, relieved and upset at the same time. "Thank you, sir."

"I have a message for Junan. You will take it to him. Tell him I have had a vision, that the boys are headed for the Keep of the Order of Ki. He must intercept them before they reach the Knights." Garthan nodded, too afraid to show his fatigue. "Go, now, both of you," said the kingpin to the messengers. He flung the wine flasks to the paving stones as they retreated, where they shattered. "Get me something more substantial to drink than this grape piss!" he demanded.

be5fa

Hogarth struggled in his dream. He walked down a corridor, inky darkness closing around him. Ahead, a man fiddled at a doorway, laughing to himself in an obsessed way. As Hogarth approached him, he turned with his mouth open as if to speak. It was Neek. When he saw Hogarth, he said, "Open the door, my son." Hogarth wondered what lay beyond the door, and he felt an irresistible urge to obey. After approaching the door, he suddenly remembered meeting Javan, and his declaration that he no longer belonged to Neek. He leaned back.

Turning, he began to run, but his legs seemed to wade through mud. A hand grasped his shoulder, but slid off. Frantic, Hogarth struggled on. "Come back here, you ungrateful cur!" came the shout from behind. Hogarth felt those dreaded hands close around his upper arms. Suddenly, he could fly. He leapt upward, everything becoming bright. The image of a hawk burned before his eyes. He woke up, a stray beam from the window shining on his face. For the first time he could ever remember, he felt suddenly free, although he knew he wasn't out of danger.

Javan had also awoken. The boys found they were in the room alone. It was light out, but the windows were shuttered against the morning sun. Hogarth awoke with a cough, spitting out the phlegm that had built up overnight. "Where is he?" he asked Javan, his voice hoarse.

"Haven't seen him," Javan shrugged. They exchanged some worried glances. Just then, the lock tumblers in the door turned, and Halberad came in.

"Ah, you're awake," he announced. "Good morning." Seeing their suspicious looks, he added, "I've been reconnoitering about the hotel, and did some checking up with some contacts. No word yet from Neek, although I don't think it'll be long before he responds. My guess is he won't give up so easily." Hogarth's look said the same thing. "Since you agree, let's have some breakfast and be off. Which way are we headed?"

"North," said Javan. "You're coming with us?"

"For a short while. My errands take me to the North a bit. However, it'll be a little tricky to get out of Freemount so easily. Spies will be everywhere. I'll have to arrange it. I've asked for a nice hot breakfast to the room. Wait here, I'll be back within an hour."

Shortly after he left, breakfast arrived, and they dug in.

An hour passed. Another hour passed. Anxious, they jumped when the door again creaked open, the sword leaping to Javan's hand. A hooded Halberad entered, closed the door, and threw off the hood.

"Some people are watching the inn. No matter, it is all arranged. I have a friend who is a farmer north of here. He has a hay wagon with hidden compartments big enough for the two of you. The trick is to get you to him unseen. If you pull up your hoods, it will make it harder to see your face. Also, I will take a winding way.

"I will have to leave Freemount in a different direction, and circle around. Once you have left the city, I will meet up with you near supper time at a prearranged place. Sound good?"

The boys nodded, then Javan asked, "What does this farmer owe you?"

Halberad nodded to himself, eyeing Javan. "I taught his sons to battle, and I was once married to his sister."

Javan nodded, satisfied.

The walk through the streets of Freemount indeed took a winding path. Halberad led them between buildings, up and down streets, and through crowded thoroughfares. Anxiously, they tried to keep a surreptitious eye out for pursuit, but noticed nothing. Occasionally, Halberad would whisper under his breath, indicating a street urchin here, a beggar there, that they would avoid. Left to themselves, they would have thought nothing of these people, and they wondered how Halberad knew they could be agents searching for them. They shrugged mentally to themselves, and paid heed to Halberad anyhow.

Since they had started in the western part of the south of the city, it took a couple of hours to traverse to the north gate. Before this, they went to an area behind the north market square, where vendors kept their belongings. A farmer was packing up his stand, although most of the rest of the vendors were still busy servicing customers. He appeared to have sold all his goods. His now-empty cart stood lashed to two work horses. He may have notice them, but made no sign, as he moved the cart toward a secluded alley. The three followed.

Around a corner, he gestured to them. Pulling aside the hay in the wagon, he revealed two oblong compartments, each running along the sides of the rather sizeable cart. He helped each boy in turn into each of the compartments, closed the doors, and covered them with hay. Although the boys couldn't see out of the boxes they were in, the farmer clasped hands with Halberad.

"Ubern, good to see you again."

"And you. Wait no more than four hours. I will be mounted."

"Aye." With that, the boys could hear the farmer's boots scrape the dirt as he climbed into the driver's seat. With a whistle and a snap of the reins, the cart lurched forward over the uneven dirt of the city.

After rolling a short while, they halted at a cry the boys guessed was the gate guard.

"There a problem?" asked the farmer.

"Orders, we're to search everyone leaving the city." The farmer said nothing. Dirt ground under several pairs of boots as guards walked around the cart, poking swords into the hay. After a while, they nodded. The gate guard gestured, and the cart lurched forward again.

They rode on for a few hours like that, Hogarth and Javan in a compartment barely bigger than their shoulders. Their occasional sneezes were drowned out by the sounds of the horses' hooves and the cart squeaking and groaning over the road.

The cart came to a rest. Birds sang overhead, and the boys' sneezes could now be heard. The compartment doors creaked open, and one by one Javan and Hogarth shielded their eyes from the light as they crawled their aching bodies out.

"Time fer a stretch and a bit o' grub, boys," said the farmer with a wry smile.

Joints creaked as they stretched. Javan hopped up and down on a foot that had fallen asleep. Both the boys' eyes were reddened, irritated by the straw and from sneezing. Their noses ran, and Hogarth had developed his cough again. As they ate their jerked meat and bread, the farmer offered them swigs of water from a skin. They looked around. They had gone off the road, and were in a clearing in the woods behind a knoll. Javan guessed the road lay on the other side.

"Thank you, sir," sad Javan.

The farmer waved, indicating that it was nothing. "You remind me of me boys, when they was younger," he said. They studied his ruddy face, reddened by the sun.

"I am Javan, and this is Hogarth."

"Call me Maranth. Pleasure," he held out his hand. They shook hands, his grip like a steel band, his enormous calloused hand dwarfing theirs. "Where you headed? Ubern just said North."

Javan took a look at this man. Simple, plain talk; simple, plain clothing; hair bound by a copper band; crows-feet at his eyes spelled laughter and sorrow. Deep creases in his face told of many hours outdoors, working the land. He considered his friend and relative, Halberad, a man with hard grey eyes tempered with a deep respect for everything and everyone that shone from his face. He took a chance.

"We are going to the Keep of the Knights of the Order of Ki. I am petitioning asylum for Hogarth, and apprenticeship for myself."

Maranth's eyes widened slightly, then his whole face seemed to wrinkle in thought. "Hmm," he rumbled. "They be very particular about whom they take." He nodded to himself, his eyes sparkling at them from the wrinkled face. "Yep, you have set yer sights high. 'Tis three week's journey by foot from here, or more. Hmm."

Hogarth was grateful for the man's help, but he didn't like his slow talk. He seemed to mull things over a lot. Javan instantly liked the man. It seemed that the farmer was what he wanted his father to be. The two waited. After a while, the man spoke again.

"Hmm. Ubern tells me ye've got some important folk tailing you."

"Vladem Neek," said Hogarth with a look of disgust. He coughed again.

"Hmm," said Maranth again in surprise. "Hmm. Not the best sort of enemy, if you want ter avoid trouble." Javan's awareness seemed heightened. Maranth was more than he seemed. Although he talked slowly, Javan had a sudden hunch his mind worked like lightning.

"They'll be all over the road, hmm?" Although the question was rhetorical, the boys nodded. "You can't ride in the boxes fer ever, I see. How 'bout you be my boys? I could lend you some of me riding cloaks."

They nodded. Javan asked, "How far is your farm?"

"A few days ride yonder," he gestured westward. Javan looked inquisitively at the farmer. "Hmm, yes, I'll have ter give you a ride to the Keep, if'n you want to make it before you get caught by Neek, or et by a bear."

Javan and Hogarth could not believe their ears. "You mean..." they began in harmony, then stopped. "You mean," continued Javan, "you'll come with us all the way to the Keep?"

"'Ts what I said, hmm?" Maranth smiled, and it seemed all the cracks on his face smiled. "If Ubern thought yer's two is worth it, 'ts good enough for me. I'll send word at home ter not expect me for a while."

"Thank you," they chorused. This time, Hogarth's misgivings were swept away as emotion brought tears to his eyes.

While they sat and talked in rather low tones, the sun descended from its zenith. They turned, hands at their weapons, at the sound of hooves walking around the grassy hill. A lone figure threw back his hood to reveal the bearded, gray-haired face of Halberad.

With cautious glad cries, they greeted him. He gestured, "We must be on our way. The sun will set in a few hours, and Neek's men walk the roads. I'll ride beside you until the road splits westward, then I must take it west. Where are you headed?"

Maranth's eyes sparkled. He looked at Javan.

Javan felt a blush creep up his face. "The Keep of the Knights of the Order of Ki."

"I thought as much. Maranth, you've probably decided to take them there?" Maranth nodded. "Then I'm to carry word to your family. Right, let's be off!" With that, the three boarded the cart, the boys sitting on the bench beside Maranth. The horses pulled around the other side of the knoll, and they went through a short patch of woods and came out upon the road. They saw no one as they rode on.

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