“If those goblins had gotten ahold of us, they would’ve tortured us for fun, then killed us and taken anything of value for themselves. It was lucky that fog hid our presence, otherwise we would find ourselves in much different circumstances.”
Anders shuddered at the thought of being tortured by one of those nasty creatures. The world outside Grandwood was all very new to him and he was just trying to get through it to save his cousins.
“Get some rest. We’ll need our strength for the last leg of our journey tomorrow,” Ivan said rolling onto his side and closing his eyes.
The following morning, the tired group filed one-by-one out of the cave. The six of them walked low staying below the skyline so they wouldn’t be seen by any goblins that may be wandering nearby.
“They’ll be on the lookout for whoever killed their two scouts,” Ivan said to the group before leaving the cave. “So we’d better stay low and stick to the gullies.”
By noon they had made it a good way across the base of the mountains west of Brookside. Looking down into the valley below, Max was the first to spot the small town.
“We should be safe to walk on the road now that we’re closer to Brookside,” Max said. “We have patrols who keep the outskirts of town safe from bandits and other nasty things.”
They found the road that led to town and stuck to it for the rest of the day. They passed several small farms and people riding in wagons full of early-season harvested goods as they came into town. At the gate they stated their names and business to the guards, who let them in.
“I’m tired. Take us to an inn where we can get a good meal and hot bath,” Ivan said to Max upon entering the town. “We’ll attempt to send word to the Rollo warships and find old man Solomon tomorrow.”
Max nodded and took them to the Brookside Inn where they devoured a warm meal and scrubbed the journey’s dirt and bad luck off in a hot bath.
Chapter 7
Solomon the Wise
Anders and Max nestled up at the pub on the main floor of the Brookside Inn and ordered a couple of pints. The frothy brew was a refreshing delicacy they hadn’t had since before the Grandwood Games. The only indulgence they’d had since leaving Grandwood was an occasional sip of mead with Red’s crew back on the ship, but that was hardly comparable to the luxury of a full mug of brew.
Anders took a sip of his brew and asked, “So who is this old wise man we’re going to see tomorrow?”
“He’s been around these parts for as long as anyone can remember. Some say he’s a sorcerer using magic sparingly to keep himself alive. I think that’s a bunch of hooey, though. He lives in the hollow of an old oak tree just outside town. My folks used to tell me Solomon would hang out in this pub and tell strange stories. He got a reputation for being a bit loony; no one takes his tales seriously. I felt bad for him because he stopped coming here when I was little so I used to go keep him company, letting him entertain me with his wild stories. He likes to chitchat. If you let him, he’ll talk your ear off,” Max said and sipped the frothy foam layer from his mug.
“And Ivan thinks he can help us to track down Thargon?” Anders said it more as a statement than a question. Slugging down the rest of his brew, he pulled the mug from his lips, slammed it on the bar top and said with a smile, “I think I’ll have another.”
Max gulped down the last of his mug to keep up with Anders. With an audible belch, Max said, “I could do with a second as well.”
Soon the two had downed six pints between the two of them and were feeling in high spirits.
“We should probably get to our rooms before we aren’t able to wake up with the others. Ivan wouldn’t be happy with us if we weren’t able to make the walk to Solomon’s,” Anders said, rising from his seat.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Max replied, stumbling a bit on his way off the stool. “Wow,” he said, catching himself on the bar. “Either that was a strong batch or I haven’t had a decent drink for far too long.”
The following morning Anders woke before dawn, the streets below their small room at the Brookside Inn lay silent as the town slumbered. The early morning sky was at its blackest just before sunrise. A thin layer of frost had formed around the window in their room. Ivan was already up and adding kindling to the wood stove. Anders stayed in bed half asleep until he heard the teapot whistling.
Pulling the covers off the bed and forcing himself up right, Anders grumbled, “Tea ready yet?”
Ivan extended his arm out and handed a hot mug to Anders who continued to slouch on the edge of his bed.
“Thanks,” he said and wrapped his hands around the warmth of the mug. The water spread a comforting sensation to the rest of his body as he sipped the hot tea. “Are we going to Solomon’s place soon?” he asked once the caffeine had begun to take effect.
“We leave in ten minutes, so you’d better get your boots on,” Ivan answered. He walked over to Max, who was still asleep in his bed and shook him by the foot, saying loudly, “You hear that boy? We leave in ten minutes.”
Max groaned, rolled over to face the wall, and pulled the wool blankets over his head. “Five more minutes,” he said in a muffled voice.
“We will leave without you,” Ivan said and walked back over to the stove.
“We should probably get the Rollos up if they’re coming with us,” Anders said, stuffing his feet into his boots.
“Red and his two men have another important task to complete today,” Ivan said. “They need to send word to their people’s ships to let them know what happened to us. Hopefully the warriors haven’t already passed here or we’ll have some catching up to do.”
With one minute to spare, Max rolled out of bed fully clothed and poured a mug of hot tea, “Ready,” he said, burning his mouth on the hot water and trying to shake the heat off his tongue.
Together the three walked out of the inn. Max lagged behind sipping his tea, blowing gently across the surface before bringing the rim to his lips for more of the caffeinated drink. The sun had risen enough so they could see Brookside in the early morning light. Anders was glad to be back in a community again, even though he’d never been to this town before. There was something familiar about the place that brought him comfort.
Max talked as they walked through streets lined with small houses and businesses. Anders discovered Brookside’s namesake when they reached a brook flowing along the edge of town. The thatched roofs faded away behind them through the trees as they walked away from town. Max seemed happy to be back in his hometown, a new spring in his step as they walked along the lightly worn path.
“How far into the wood does this old man live?” Anders asked, looking intently at their surroundings and remembering the goblins they’d seen on the other side of town the previous day.
“Not much farther if I remember correctly,” Max said. “Just over this next hill.”
As the three rounded the top of the hill, Anders saw a small opening in the forest floor. At the bottom of the hill, on the edge of the opening, protruding from a large oak tree was a thatched awning. Wood smoke piped out from a broken branch serving as a chimney of the wise man’s tree house. A beam of sunlight brought a glow to the grass surrounding the front door at the base of the tree.
“There it is,” Max said as they looked down on the cabin.
“It looks cozy,” Anders said, impressed with the way it was built nicely into the large tree.
“Come on,” Ivan said. “We haven’t got all day.” He was the first to keep on walking down to the home.
“Is he expecting us?” Anders asked when they drew close to the front door.
“I don’t see how he would know of our visit? Last time I was here, he told me that I was welcome back at any time, and meant it,” Max said. “He doesn’t get a lot of company out here. A friendly face is always welcomed at Solomon’s.”
