Westhaven, Rowan Erlking [large ebook reader .txt] 📗

the clearing near some of the refugee tents. It wasn’t until the patriarch of Sundri called to Lanona to speak with her that Tiler looked up then glanced at the others. He narrowed his eyes. He nudged Key in the side, but Key was already listening to Bredin explain the details of the planned trip to Stiltson, not to be bothered with anyone else.

“…So, we intend to go through north through Yarrding first,” Bredin summed up. “Then we’ll stop in the Westerlund hills where we can pick up supplies, and you can give your apprentices the orders from the Southwest Corner…”

“They aren’t my apprentices. Just assistants.” Key muttered, glancing to Tiler who was still watching Lanona. She was chatting with her city patriarch. Key followed his gaze then blinked with wonder. “They were already smiths before I had them trained to make—”

“Fine. Fine.” Bredin waved it off. “To continue, we’ll gather a few more traveling companions in Westerlund then head south along the mountains by cart to Kalsworth to pick up that wizard you told me about. And then from there we will go to Barnid then turn south to Ladis. That will be our first stop.”

Key waited to see if there was anything else that was decided without his consent, feeling tired. But so far Bredin the Sea Fisher said nothing. So, Key nodded and asked, “And what will we be doing in Ladis?”

The Stiltson man glanced over his shoulder to the Sundri patriarch. He heaved a tired sigh. “As you had suggested to that mercenary, Pattron, we will have the Sundri wizard make tunnels there.”

Key blinked, sneaking a look at Lanona. “So…what am I doing in Ladis?”

“It is merely along the way for you,” Bredin replied with a brisk nod. “You’ll remain indoors while she sets up the tunnels.”

Shrugging, Key went back to eating his beans.

Bredin looked to Tiler who was still watching Lanona talk with her city patriarch. Following his gaze, he could see Lanona peer over at them already growing pink in the face as her eyes flickered over both Key and himself. 

Nodding, Bredin continued to speak to Key. “After that wizard finishes up at Ladis, we’ll travel to Stiltson. There I will have you and your traveling companions set up in a safe place where we will then plan that raid you suggested. Will that be satisfactory?”

“Are we leaving Lanona in Ladis?” Key took a glance at Pattron though. The swarthy man had entered the camp by then and had approached the Sundri patriarch and Lanona. Watching Lanona back away from the man, shooting one hard glance at where he and Tiler were sitting, Key hastily averted his eyes. A tight feeling formed in his chest. 

Turning his gaze back to Bredin, he said, “I don’t think it would be wise to leave her in the company of that kind of man. But you don’t have a use for her in Stiltson, do you?”

A faint grin appeared on Bredin’s face. “Actually, I was hoping she and that friend of yours would coordinate their efforts so that we would create tunnels under the canals within the city. You said your friend could manipulate water, and she obviously handles earth. They’d be an exellent pair.”

Key almost choked on his food.

Tiler slapped him on the back with his spare hand. And though jostled, Key started to nod to say he was fine.

“Ok.” With a nod, Key went back to eating his beans. His face was red from choking. “Fine. When are we leaving?”

“Tomorrow, if we can,” Bredin replied with a pleased smile.

As he held his spoon before his mouth, Key murmured, “No time for rest, huh?”

Tiler scooted closer to Key. “So. Does this journey of yours include all of us? That is, Loid and I go always with Key. No exception.”

“Of course,” Bredin nodded to Tiler, resting his inspecting eyes on the Herra man’s face.

“With Lanona Loe, that guy Soin, and who else?” Tiler angled his head to the side, watching the southerner’s face with all the intent of a Herra man.

Bredin continued, listing on his fingers as he recited out loud, though it was more like pretending he did not notice Tiler’s distrust. “That swordsman Luis, your friend Telerd, plus a couple more of your companions we hear we will meet up with in Westerlund. That along with my men, it should prove a decent traveling party.”

Tiler smirked. He glanced to Key as if to confirm the absurdity of what the man just said, but Key continued to eat as if he didn’t care about the details.

“And how will we travel without blue-eyes noticing us?” Tiler asked with a snort. “Going by cart on the main roads with a group that big isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

Shoveling in another spoonful of beans, Key smothered a smirk. His eyes flickered with amusement. His stomach had been gnawing out his side for some time. That and after having such a frustrating meeting with the leaders of their future army, his hunger had doubled.

Keeping with his polite southern manner, Bredin shared one of his solemn smiles with Tiler. The look in the southern man’s eyes regarded him as a mere that boy he had to humor for the time being, a look Tiler ignored but Key noted in case it would cause trouble later.

Bredin said, “Not to worry. Part of the group will travel with the shipment from Westerlund. As for the lake men, I hear they can travel as minstrels.”

“I’m no minstrel,” Key said between bites.

Tiler chuckled. Casting the Sea Fisher a sly look, he said, “No, but I see what he’s getting at. You do have that one outfit that makes you look like a performer. You and Loid can go out like that. But what about me? That’s my question. I’m a Herra man. The blue-eyes are on high patrol for us.”

With another polite smile, Bredin said, “You can ride with—”

“I don’t leave Key,” Tiler said, looking the Stlitson man straight in the eye.

“And why is that?” Bredin asked, still keeping up his manner though it grew strained.

Tiler grinned. His eyes flickered on Lanona as she left her group and walked over to where they were. “’Cause he doesn’t have the killer instinct, and someone’s got to watch his back.”

Glancing up from his nearly empty bowl, Key made a face at Tiler. That joke was getting old.

Bredin Sefesher looked puzzled. He glanced from Key to Tiler.

But as Key shook his head, Key’s eyes caught on some movement, so he lifted them higher to see better.

Lanona who was looking particularly irritable, stood in front of him.

Flushing, Key stood up, almost dropping his bowl. He caught it with one hand but his spoon fell into the dirt. Closing his eyes, he bent down and grabbed it then set both bowl and spoon onto the log. “Uh, hi. Lanona. I, uh…”

“I hear I’m supposed to travel south with you,” she bit out.

That sick feeling settled in his stomach. He hated it when she spoke in that tone. She had hardly looked at him since his arrival at the camp. Ad even after when he got settled in, she walked around the long way to avoid him.

“Am I also to be your bodyguard?” Lanona asked.

Raising his hands, flushing even more red, Key answered, “I did not arrange this.”

“Is that so?” She took a step closer to him. “Well that creepy guy from Ladis said you did. He said you suggested that I make tunnels in Ladis too. Is that all I am to you? Some tool you can use when it’s convenient?”

She took another step closer to him.

Tiler hopped up to get out of the way. Even Bredin stepped back. Key groaned as Lanona approached him.

“No.” Key backed up only slightly. “He asked the council for the service, and I remembered that you were good at it. That’s all.”

“And what about him?” Lanona pointed to Bredin, giving the Sea Fisher a disgusted glance. “You also offered me to work for him.”

“No, I didn’t.” Key snapped back. He hated it that she was making him feel like the bad guy all the time. “I recommended my friend, Soin Fisherson. He’s a fluid manipulator. In fact, if you want to meet Soin, I’ll arrange it.”

Lanona stomped her foot. The ground immediately went soft like sand, so much that Key had to hop back to the log before his feet sunk in.

“What is your problem?” Key shouted at her. “Every one of us is being used, you know! Including me!”

Huffing, Lanona whipped around and tromped away.

Key watched her. He slowly shook his head, wondering what was wrong with that woman.  She went inside a tent as if to remove herself from his sight.

The Stiltson man took that moment to retreat also. His usual solemn facade was replaced by one of slight desperation to be as far from that sunken ground as possible.

“Wow,” Tiler murmured. “I think she’s really mad at you, and I don’t think it is just because of today.”

Key hopped off the log, avoiding the soft part of the ground.

“This is not my fault.” Key picked up his dirty spoon from the log, wiping it on his pant leg. “That woman is an absolute…augh! I…I haven’t a clue what I did to make her mad.”

Tiler snickered. He walked over to where they had made camp, shaking his head. “Sure…. Strangely enough, I believe you.”

*

Peace.

It just didn’t feel right.

And waiting. That also felt wrong.  But what was a retired general to do?

The day he returned to Roan, Gailert Winstrong went to see the captain of the Roan post to discuss the situation at Calcumum and the threat of Key’s appearance at Wimanus. However at the end of the discussion, just like with the Sky Lord, it was clear that the captain did not think the issue as urgent as Gailert believed.

“I’m sorry, General. But things have been going smoother lately. Not worse.” Captain Welsin gave Gailert a commiserating shrug. “What can I say? If you want, I can send out more posters, but I really think that this man is not likely to be caught. It is like that lone gunman. That man also hasn’t been seen in many years.”

“But that’s exactly my point,” Gailert said frowning as he leaned forward in his chair. “Such men are out there. Dangerous murderers, free. We can’t just sit back and wait until they strike next.”

Nodding slowly, though his mouth was pressed into a line, the captain drew in a breath. “All right. Fine. If you wish, I’ll keep my men on a hard lookout for this Key.  And if we do find him and catch him, we’ll inform you at once.”

“And as for this unusual calm?” Gailert asked, waiting for what he hoped to hear.

The captain sighed again. “We will always be vigilant, General. You can count on that.”

But that wasn’t the assurance Gailert had hoped for. He could tell the captain thought he was just being paranoid. Humoring him was the way to keep an old man like him quiet.

Frowning, Gailert rose from his seat, thinking what he ought to do next. They would want him to just sit back and retire, but more than ever it felt wrong to just take a back seat position with this quiet crisis. He would have to confront this situation on his own.

As he left the military office, passing through the old door that used to be his, his eyes fell on the map of Westhaven. It had been there the many years he had been the head general. Automatically his eyes skimmed over the crucial places of the country, thinking also of the places that had been attacked by insurgents. The humans had to have a plan beyond just causing havoc.

The small raids had continued though sparse, far between, but all very similar. The news he read in the mornings was only punctured occasionally with reports of fires during inclement weather such as fog or rain. Each fire, he had read, destroyed factories, military offices, and the occasional