The Seeker

Chapter 2

Doran slowed his breathing in an instant, and spoke a prayer to Treuliwr, He who Consumes. Pressing the blade to his skin, he began carving the intricate rune of protection. A slow trickle of blood, warm in the chill night air, ran down his forearm.

The crossbow bolt flew wide, and Doran ceased his prayer.

"For the love of the Gods, Pavis!" a gravelly voice bellowed from the palisade, "Keep your damned finger off the trigger!"

Bryna shifted nervously, and Doran stroked her neck slowly.

"We mean no harm!" Doran shouted, "Just searching for shelter. Food too, if there's any to be had."

           There was a silence, long and cold, and Doran pressed the knife close to his skin again.

"Little late to still be on the road, isn't it? 'Specially on such a dim night?" the lead guard asked.

"Aye," Doran agreed, "We'd have stopped sooner, only the last place we saw was aflame."

The guards on the palisade gasped in concern, descending into hushed conversation.

"Tref y Dyffryn?" one of them called.

"What?"

"Was it Tref y Dyffryn that burned?"

Doran shrugged.

          "No idea."

"If it is... Poor Jo. She's got family down there, hasn't she?"

"That she does," another guard replied.

"Lord Kaskill's men, no doubt."

"Bastards!"

"And the two of you were hoping to stay here?" the lead guard queried.

"Was rather hoping," Doran nodded.

            There was another pause as the guards discussed that request.

"Might have to hope elsewhere," the leader concluded.

Doran sighed heavily.

"Bandits about," the leader explained.

"I can assure you we're not bandits. There are only two of us, and we wish no trouble."

"Might be more of you hiding out there!"

"Where?" Doran growled, "The whole place is flat as far as the eye can see."

"Pitch black out. Might be waiting further down the road."

           Doran sighed and walked Bryna back the way he had come, sweeping his torch to illuminate the surroundings. After he had gone a few hundred yards, he turned and rode back.

"None others nearby," he concluded.

That must have eased the guard's minds, for the crossbows were lowered.

"No trouble?"

"No trouble," Doran agreed.

          One of the guards jumped from the palisade, moving to open the gates. Their leader waved the pair in, and Doran guided Bryna into the village. His companion followed eagerly.

"Name's Si. Welcome to Gollwyd," the leader spoke, extending his hand awkwardly.

Doran leaned down from his saddle to shake it, and gave his own name in turn.

"Your friend speaks?"

"If he lets me," Doran's companion grumbled.

"What's that? Lost your tongue?"