FOREVER KNIGHTS: #9 Feral Breed

Battling Territory (Three years after son’s death)

MARDICHI

Mardichi returned to the Weary House Inn before Norris woke. Catching a few hours sleep before Norris woke him in his usual bubbly manner.

Both he and Norris moved on to the Weary House Inn and garnered all the information they could on the bandit, The Raven.

There was much tale.

And far less truth. Mardichi was not amused.

“I am about done with drunk travelers.” Mardichi complained as he took another hefty drink.

“You are a drunk traveler.” Norris pointed out. Earning him a black look.

Likely why I’m intolerant.

“Perhaps we should speak to some locals then.” Norris suggested.

If you must.

Mardichi shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Some brief small talk with the tavern owner and Norris had quickly found someone residing in a small cottage down the road they were directed to speak to.

“Who is it?” Mardichi asked warily.

“An old woman who apparently raised her many years.”

“She knows who this girl is?”

“The real girl, apparently.”

Intriguing. Mardichi thought.

“Good. Because that’s the one I want to get my hands on.”

Not this imaginary fiend everyone is so afraid of.

“Aye.” Norris eyed him. “I fear that’s the case.”

You’ve no idea…

“I mean to deliver her to the king.”

“After you’ve sated your curiosity.” Norris wasn’t asking.

Less than an hour found them standing before a rundown shamble of a cottage.

“Clearly peasant housing.” Norris frowned.

Clearly. Mardichi agreed. Noticing the drops of water streaming the wood framing the door. A glance up verified the sun was high in the sky and this clearing of trees exposed the wood to direct light that should have the structure bone dry.

“Which means she’ll be motivated to be truthful with us for a bit of coin.” Mardichi said cheerfully. Deciding to ignore the odd water drops.

A quick knock at the door yielded a response within seconds. The door creaked open and a bedraggled woman slowly cracked the door. A bleary brown eye assessed them. They were immediately assailed by the smell of damp wood and stone. And a chilled breeze blew out.

“Who are you?” She demanded.

“We’re looking for the Raven.” Norris said.

The door was slammed in their faces.

Mardichi harrumphed. “Well done Norris. Usually ye ’ave better people skills.”

“You’re quite debonair in your methods.” Norris said dryly. “Care to give it a go?”

Mardichi knocked distinctly again.

When the door cracked once more she barked for them to go away.

“We’re no’ goin’ ta kill ’er.” He assured confidently. “Not everyone else seeking the king’s coin, will be able ta say the same.”

“The king’s coin?” The door eased open. “Why do you want her?”

“Tis a good question.” Mardichi responded. “Tell us why the king wants her?”

“How would I know that?” She glared up at him.

She doesn’t like the size of me.

Good idea to be concerned as a woman living alone. He glanced away and tried to hunker some to seem less threatening.

Finally grunting, she turned from the door. Leaving it ajar as she expected them to follow.

Bold. She has a reason to believe she can defend herself.

Magic. A glance around revealed the ceiling dripping with water and trailing rivulets rose from the floor and climbed the walls to the thatched roof where they seeped through the boards to run down the outside.

“Why’s it so wet?”

Are you hiding something magical?

“It suits me.” She dismissed with a wave of her hand.

Mardichi was skeptical. His shrewd gaze taking in the hut. Noticing things low to the floor seemed out of place. Why?

Sitting at the table she pulled three wooden cups from under a shelf and sloshed water from a pitcher into them. Mardichi eyed it in distaste. Don’t hand me that. Has no flavor.

Norris elbowed him. “Drink it. It may be good for you.”

No it will not be! Mardichi looked at him askance.

“’Tis not ale.” He hissed back.

“It is possible to drink things that aren’t ale.”

Says you.

“I disagree.” He gave a short headshake.

“What?” The woman returned from setting the pitcher on a shelf.

He’s speaking foolishness.

“How do you know her?” Mardichi asked. Cutting directly to the point.

“I raised them both. She was a daughter to me.”

A daughter?

“I see.” He said thoughtfully. “And who are you?”

“My name is Taryn but the villagers call me The Paladine Dread.”

Not a dread. Something else.

Perhaps like Calisto? Water Priestess?

“I dunno’ believe ye a Dread.” He dismissed.