Remnant of Power

Chapter Two

                                                                                    Mal/Yavenna

Mal Wainwright staggered towards the rickety wagon where his friend Gared and Sam the wheelwright, Gared's employer, were waiting. His head still felt like it was being crushed in a vice, after the mead he'd drunk yesterday to celebrate his eighteenth birthday. Damn it, he wished there was some way he could stay here in the village and look for his dog, but as he squinted at the two men waiting for him he knew there wasn't. Sam was old and his eyesight had really deteriorated lately, and if they didn't make a good profit at the market today Mal knew Sam wouldn't be able to pay Gared his wages or pay for the services of the village healer. And Gared's family needed all the money they could get; with his father working as an odd-job man and five mouths to feed, life was hard for them.

"Sorry I'm late." He scanned the village behind them and the surrounding woodlands as he spoke, blinking in the bright light. Rolling his broad shoulders to try to ease his pounding head, he looked at Gared.

"There's a problem. It's Yoldas. He still hasn't come home. I've got no idea where he is. Last night was strange. That pedlar he bit seemed really villainous and Yoldas's never bitten anyone before." Mal hoisted himself onto the wagon next to Gared, brushing his dark wavy hair back from his handsome face as he thought about how his dog had tried to attack the sleazy stranger. Immediately afterwards, while Mal and Gared were walking back home after the evening's celebrations, Yoldas had just vanished.

"Do you remember the pedlar called Yoldas "a monstrous outlaw", or did I imagine that?"

His friend shook his head, "No, that's what he called him."

Bumping along in the wagon, with the cart behind them full of different sized wheels, Mal grimly studied the woods and fields they passed. As the two horses splashed through the ford of the river Springdrift and trotted along the rough track towards the main road to Dinwald Mal's headache got worse. Where was Yoldas? He never missed a day at the market. He always seemed to know when Mal was going to help Sam. It was almost as if he actually understood the word "market".

Mal rubbed his head. It was only two leagues to Carthaven from Gelenburg and in no time at all the ancient city walls were in sight. But on the main road ahead was an astonishing sight. Sam reined in the horses, and the cart lurched to a halt in the middle of the main road.

Lopsidedly straddling the main road, with one wheel split and another missing a spoke, was a magnificent, cream-painted carriage. Another cream carriage, almost as splendid-looking, and a black one bearing a coat of arms; a gold sword against a black castle, had drawn up behind it. Spread out around them was a group of some forty or so guards.

"Stop right there! You'll have to wait till we're done," shouted one of the guards.

Mal and Gared exchanged glances.

"We'll never get a stall if we 'ave to wait for them lot. They'll be 'ere all day, like as not," mumbled Sam under his breath.

"Then we'd better see if we can help them, hadn't we?" said Mal, jumping down from the cart.

But then he heard Gared whisper, "Don't bother, Mal. That coach's got the King's coat of arms on. Why would you want to help him? Anyway, it's not worth drawing attention to ourselves." Pulling the scarf he always wore around his neck up over his light brown hair, his handsome friend climbed over into the back of the wagon with the wheels.

Mal frowned at him, whatever was Gared concerned about? He ignored him and strode up to the guard who'd shouted.

"We can help if you like. I'm a carpenter and they're both wheelwrights."