The Fireseed Wars

II

The little backwoods village of Salis was even more poverty-stricken and insular than most of the small villages they'd passed through on their journey. They approached it stealthily, as Ranthos didn't want to leave any evidence of their passing that the Styphoni might collect. He left the main part of his command several marches before the crossroads; he didn't want any evidence of their passage through the village.

So far they hadn't run into any of Styphon's agents and he guessed they were a few days ahead of the enemy. Lysia had left a moon quarter before with a heavy escort for Glarth Port, where she'd taken the first ship bound for Thagnor City with the news of their mission.

Ranthos and Mnestros were dressed up as itinerant peddlers. Their cover story was that they were on their way to Glarth Port and ran low on supplies. Ranthos was to do most of the talking because Mnestros had trouble speaking the common tongue. There were two taverns in the village; they picked the smaller of the two.

The tavern had seen better days. They found a three-legged table next to an upended beer keg which was collecting rain water as it dripped down from a bad joint in the roof braces. The wizened old bartender was lonely and a fountain of information.

"There's not much custom for peddlers in Salis. In better times, the Duke used to keep many retainers and a small factory that made oil lamps. The market was always busy. But since his death, most of the retainers have left and the factory closed. Now the village is poor and many of the young folk leave for the Glarth Town as soon as they reach their majority. By the time I die there won't be a handful of freeholds left.

"You might try the First Elder's house, it's the only one with whitewash in the village. Oh yes, there's the Duke's widow; her serving ladies might need some pots or pans. Just follow the stream as it goes north; her manor is about ten marches outside of town."

Ranthos shook his head. "Too far out of our way. Maybe we'll visit the First Elder and see if his wife can use any of our wares."

They picked up some jerky and raw potatoes at one of the dilapidated market stalls and then made a halfhearted attempt to sell some pots, but the Elder's wife wasn't the least bit interested in their wares. All she could talk about were the shops in Glarth; it took them half a candle to shake her loose. In that dead village it seemed that even itinerant vagabonds were preferable to the same old faces.

The two of them departed by the main trail so that later no one would suspect they'd doubled back. If the villagers didn't know anything, there was nothing they could tell the Styphoni. By horseback it didn't take long to reach the old manor, which looked as if it hadn't been refurbished since the Duke had died. The outer walls were crumbling and the watchtowers deserted.

Still in their disguises, they approached the main gate, which was open, one door permanently. It appeared the area was too poor to even attract bandits.

There was a young girl in the courtyard near the well. She was well-dressed and appeared cared for. The girl was about four or five winters. She raced off, calling for her mother.

The little girl returned holding a woman's hand. A guard with a noticeable limp trailed her. The woman was comely except for a scar that ran from one corner of her mouth around to her chin.

"I'm Lady Tymolara," she said with a smile. "This is my daughter, Katlya." She patted the little girl on the head. "How may I help you gentlemen?"

In their current disguises they were anything but gentlemen. Ranthos shuffled around like any lowborn peddler approaching a Lady far above his station. "Your Ladyship, we have some used pots and pans for sale. Would you gentlefolks be in need of such goods?"

"I'm sorry, but the Lady of the House and I have more than enough worldly goods for our small household. You might fare better with your wares downstream at the village. You can tell them I sent you."

Ranthos bowed his head. "Thank you, Your Ladyship. We'll be on our way."

As soon as they were out of earshot, Ranthos turned to Mnestros. "We'll wait until nightfall."