We ride most of the morning and into the afternoon. The leaves around us rustle in the wind, back to their natural greens. Few fellow travelers pass us by, but those who do offer a polite greeting and a friendly smile. A warm welcome compared to our latest run-in with strangers to say the least. As the sun reaches its peak in the sky, we guide our horses off the road and into a space between the trees. We dismount and relax, laying out a blanket and setting up a picnic. A small lake sits nearby, and we each take turns to rid ourselves of dirt and dried blood. Once we are clean, Nana delves into her bag and dishes out some food for us all. Mainly berries, nuts, and some bread, we enjoy our lunch in peace. Woodland critters watch as they scurry about. Birds gather in the branches, colorful gorgeous things of varying size. Each has its own part in the song they perform for us, each with its harmonious voice that blends into the chorus.
At first, Nana hums along with the tune, following the melody with ease. It isn't long until her voice rings out, a clear and bright sound that seems to lead the others. I am unsure if the words that escape her are real or some foreign tongue I have never encountered, but regardless it is beautiful. It fits in with the birds as she guides them through the verses. When the last note comes to a soft close, I realize that Max and I are staring. Nana's blind eyes look between us, a hopeful and expectant smile stretching the corners of her mouth.
"That was incredible, Nana," Max says, in quiet awe. "Where did you learn to sing like that? Did you study with one of the Chapters?"
"Birds," she answers with a satisfied smile.
"Can we have another song perhaps?" I ask.
She pops a berry into her mouth and looks around to the scores of feathered friends. They wait, perched on the branches, for her command. Like the congregation outside Fiona's Rest, the sight sends a sense of impending doom through me, though this lot seems to be far more peaceful. Nana contemplates the request for a long moment, seeming to lock eyes with the avian creatures one by one to gauge their interest for another tune. The berry gone, the consensus gathered, she breathes a happy and content exhale.
"No."
A flutter of wings rifts through the air at the word, and the branches become empty. The rest of lunchtime passes in near silence, save for the occasional crunch of a nut or the call of a distant animal. Nana finishes her little pile of berries, and Max takes one last handful of nuts. As I finish a piece of bread, I pull out the map from my back pocket. Unfolding it out on the blanket, I glance over the little details within the forest.
"How far are we from the next stop?" Max asks, leaning in to get a look at the map. "It was an inn, right?"
"At least a tavern," I tell him. "There's just this tankard symbol, no name to go with it. Based on the distance from Pelle's Hut, we should get there in an hour, maybe two."
"Looks like our drop-off point is a few hours east of there," Max muses, drawing a line from the tankard to the red X with his finger. "We could probably make it there by dark if we choose to take only a brief respite."
"Think you could last a few extra hours on the road tonight, Nana?" I ask her.
The milky eyes behind the glassless spectacles are fixed on the X. A skeletal finger reaches out and caresses the scarlet symbol. Her fingertip traces over the little lines, a clear and present longing. She whispers a word, soft but stronger than her typical wheeze: Elbert. I had once thought it to be a name, a lost love perhaps, but now the thought occurs that maybe in that unknown language in which she sang it is a word meaning home.
"Then let's get you to Elbert," Max says with a slight grin. She beams back to him as they rise to their feet.
We pack up our things and stow them where they belong. Nana chooses to ride with me again, and in a moment we return to the road. More peace and quiet surrounds us, providing us uninterrupted relief. I keep my eyes open, just in case, but find no bandits or other ill-intended vagabonds waiting beyond the roadside brush. In the calm, my heart wonders if Nana would grace us with a song to fill the air, but this small desire goes unsaid and unfulfilled.
The trees make more space in time, allowing enough room for a stout brick building to take up residence. It stands tall, three storeys at least, with four windows on the second and third level. Odd eyes, shuttered from the inside but the panes raised. Vines creep in the cracks between bricks, a lush green amongst the faded red. On the ground level, a wide window stretches across the left half of the face. It holds darkness, a curtain keeping prying eyes from peering inside. A double-wide door sits on the right half of the wall. Etched on its face is the same tankard symbol from the map. Several hitch posts wait along the edge of the trees, but only one is occupied by white horse. A chimney slinks up the western wall, puffing out smoke in a steady exhale.
"I think we've found the tavern," I say with a smirk.
"Let's stop for a little," Max suggests. "Just long enough to see if there's anyone willing to buy these swords off us."
The doors swing out in a great push. From the dark interior of the tavern steps a man clad in worn golden armor. An engraving of a tree adorns the breastplate. Flowing behind him as he walks is a long cape of teal. His clean square jaw is tight and determined as he heads toward his horse. His brown hair is short and neat, cut shorter on the sides and left a little longer on the top. For a moment, I'm certain he does not even notice our little party. But then with a sharp turn of the head, grey eyes squint in our direction.
"Awful lot of swords for two boys and a grandma," he comments, his voice gruff yet light. There may be a hint of teasing in there, but the stern look etched into his hardened wrinkles suggests he is not one to waste humor on strangers, or anyone at all for that matter. He stops in his tracks, his left hand rests easy on the pommel of his sword.
"How right you are, good sir," Max agrees. He dismounts, grabs the set of blades, and approaches the armored man. "And to be honest, we have no use for so many weapons. I'd be happy to make a deal with you if you're interested."
"Lay them out," the man says after a curious and too-long silence.
Max obeys with an eager grin. He sets the bundle on the ground, unclasps the leather strips, and unrolls the blanket. Seven basic iron swords make up the bulk of the lot. One sword is long and lean, a slight curve to its violet-edged blade that is reversed at the black grip. Another is broad but short, but looks lethal nonetheless. The last unique sword has a peculiar design: the blade, while maintaining a straight shape, displays little spikes along one edge and a serration on the other, and its pommel takes the form of a bulky screaming bear.
The armored man squats and inspects them all. He picks them up one by one to gauge their weight, and seems satisfied by most. He takes a close look along the blades' edges, even closing one eye to enhance his examination. He mumbles something under his breath before straightening back to his full height, but I cannot not hear it and Max does not comment.
"One might wonder how you acquired such a plentiful arsenal," the man not-teases. "You boys aren't baby bandits, are you?"
"No, sir," I answer. His eyes meet mine then, and I can feel his doubt. Despite the truth in my words, his look sends a ripple of cold anxiety through me.
"Everything you see here was lawfully obtained thanks to happenstance, you have my word," Max grabs his attention again. "Nothing stolen, nothing graverobbed, nothing swindled."
The man thinks it over for a long moment, looking between the swords and then to Max. He gives a stiff nod, a single motion, and turns to his horse. From a saddle bag he produces a healthy pouch. Max wraps the blades back up, securing them tight, and exchanges the bundle for the bag with a sincere word of thanks.
"You boys do me a favor," the armored man says as he ties his newly acquired weapons to his horse. "Everglow is in serious need for young men who know how to swing a sword. If you're heading back this way anytime soon, you might want to consider enlisting."
"Starting a war, are you?" I ask. "You look equipped for it."
"You can thank our southern neighbor Elkenrast for that," the man chuckles, a dark sound I was sure he was not capable of making. "King Raghnall has decided sacking Eastfall wasn't enough to expand his lands, so now he looks to Everglow. Lady Yvonne wants to gather defenses early in case the crazy bastard goes through with it. I'll be returning here this evening to recruit whoever is willing. Perhaps our paths will cross again then."
The man unhitches his horse from the post and mounts in a fluid movement that has undoubtedly been perfected over years of experience. He rides off, heading south, and is gone from our sight moments later.
Would he and his ilk even accept us if we were to join the cause? Max and I were not raised in nor currently reside in Everglow; the Tower of Lost Children sits in Sylzaria to the northwest, and Hemwood is in Elkenrast territory. Should we offer our services, would we be seen as enemies for the latter? Or would King Raghnall consider us traitors if word got out? Not that we owe allegiance to either country, or any country really. Max, Kym, and I see ourselves as free people living wherever we please for as long as we please. If we pay our dues and relatively stay out of trouble, who is to stop us? We can simply just move on to the next town, or the next country. Maybe even one day we'll cross over the Great Sybillan Waters.
"There's easily a hundred in here," Max announces in surprise and joy. "I could kiss that wonderful, generous man."
"I would love to see you try," I laugh. "We'll have to come back once we drop off Nana. Let's head out now and get a good start."
"Good idea," Max says, climbing back onto his horse.
"You ready to finally go home, Nana?" I ask her.
"Home!" she exclaims with a light squeeze of a hug. The idea of her meaning I am her home now pops in and out of my head. A silly thought, I conclude.