All that Glitters (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 1) (27 page)

Kahndar answered. "Eighty gold crowns, two hundred sixty-three silver crowns, and five hundred forty-seven copper sparks from five different kingdoms."

"Plus one hundred gold crowns worth of gold and silver for the ship. Does anyone object to equal shares?" Barvil asked, and when no one objected he began counting. When he was done each of them had received the equivalent of twenty-three gold crowns, five silver crowns, and three copper sparks.

The next day they moved on. Trader Sahren smiled as she looked at Barvil. "It looks like good weather ahead. We should have no trouble reaching Zigamarad now." By evening the clouds were lowering and she muttered, "Never give the Gods an excuse to play with you," as the first fat raindrops fell.

Barvil looked at the sky, then north toward Kel’Kavin. He’d been away so many times and always had to wonder how Sahrena was getting along without him. A snort of laughter bubbled up from his chest. “Probably quite well,” he whispered so no one would hear. “Probably very well.”

* * *

A storm brought rain to the valley and welcome water to the fields. The new crops were growing like weeds, but the weeds were growing just as fast. Every day the youngsters had to walk the fields, gathering the weeds so that the grain would get all of the water and nourishment from the ground.

Dorvina was always among the work parties, and, in the way of such things, those groups sorted themselves out into people of similar ages and interests. In Dorvina's case, that meant she was surrounded by other girls and women in their mid-teens.

"I got a note from Aeron," Nahrene Kel'Jordal said. "His group was in Coravia, in Moravad itself. He got three kills already! One of them had two gold crowns in his purse. Their caravan is headed east into the mountains and may even go all the way down into Luxand. He promised to buy me something from there if he does."

"I haven't heard from Jortan yet," another girl said. "He said he'd send a message when he made his first kill. I hope he does soon."

Nahrene said, "He'll probably have to wait until he does and hope the bandit has some silver on him. It cost Aeron two silver crowns to send his message."

"Have you heard anything from your father or Karvik, Dorvi?" Orana Kel'Davin asked.

Dorvina smiled and nodded. "Dad sent a note from Twin Bridges. They were waiting for a new caravan. They had only been in one fight and Davel and Cordon got the only kills."

"I'll bet Harner was happy to hear that," Orana said with a sly grin.

"What do you mean?" Dorvina asked. "Of course he was happy that his brother got another kill."

"I mean, I'll bet he was happy that Stavin didn't," Orana said. "The fewer kills Stavin makes, the fewer kills he'll need to catch up."

Dorvina bit back a sharp retort. She was, after all, a servant and Orana was one of the highest-ranking girls in the valley. "He won't have any trouble surpassing Master Stavin. The Warmaster wouldn't start Sta—Master Stavin with a sword because he's so small. Harner already has three years of sword instruction. He'll make his kills. Don't you worry about that."

"Oh, I'm not worried about Harner," Orana said as she turned away from Dorvina. "My father already told him no when he approached him about me," Orana continued with a hint of malice.

"When did he—?" Dorvina asked with a trembling voice.

"Right after your father lost his honor. Franik and Alvar did as well." Orana turned away from Dorvina to pull a weed and hide her vicious little smirk. "My father told all of them that he wouldn't see me wed to an untried boy who'd never left the valley. That's why I was surprised when Harner didn't join the expedition anyway."

"They all turned away?" Dorvina asked in a choked tone.

"Of course," Orana answered, still not looking at the older girl. "None of their parents would approve of them marrying a servant, and none of them want to wait two or three years for you. You'll probably end up married to a man much younger than you, like Sharindis did. Maybe you'll get lucky and marry someone like Stavin."

T
ORRENTIAL RAIN LASHED THE CARAVAN, TURNING
the road into a river and the surrounding land into a swamp. Everyone wore rain-cloaks, but they only helped a little. The water that leaked past the cloaks turned to steam and soaked them all to skin. Even Stavin, whose dragon-scale under-padding usually kept cool, was sweating and miserable.

Slowly, indistinct forms in the distance became buildings. As more buildings became visible, Trader Sahren turned her wagon off the road and the others gratefully followed. Once the wagons were parked, Barvil called all the warriors together.

"It's too muddy to set up tents. I'm going to ask for lodgings at the caravansary. They're likely to be flea-ridden or worse, but we can't camp in this muck." He looked down at the ankle-deep mud they were all standing in and snarled.

Davel smiled and commented, "It looks like not selling the wagon worked out in our favor after all, Sir. We can put our gear in it."

Barvil looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. "I'd have preferred the coin. Ah, well, no bad without some good. Dav, take your hand and start rounds. Kahn, see to it that all of our gear is under the tarp and that the horses have some cover." Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked away toward the caravansary.

"Yes, Sir," Davel and Kahndar snapped anyway, and Davel walked off with his hand filing behind him.

Kahndar looked at his men and waved a hand toward the wagon. "You heard him. Spread that canvas over the wagon and get everything under it."

"Maybe we could ask the traders to let us tuck a horse in with each of their teams," Horvan suggested, pointing to where the traders were stretching tarps out from the eaves of their wagons to make lean-tos for their mules.

"Good idea," Kahndar agreed. "I'll go ask." He walked away as quickly as the sticky muck would allow. The three remaining men worked on stowing their gear until he returned. "Trader Sahren said yes. Start leading the horses to the wagons, and dry them as well as you can once they are settled."

The young warriors made quick work of the task and were back at the wagon when Barvil returned. "We have rooms, but they're as bad as I feared. I've already dusted them with carass powder. That will help with the fleas and such, but watch out for spiders. Solitary browns and red-belly blacks are common here. A good rule to follow in these lands is if you don't know what it is, kill it. There are plenty of them to breed replacements."

Barvil grabbed his gear and led the way, with each warrior behind him bringing his own gear and that of his year-mate. The rooms were small, dingy, dirty, and mildewed. They smelled of rot and carass powder, and underlying both was the smell of rats. Each room held two beds, so Barvil had only rented three. With the hands watching turn and turn-about, there was no need for more. Stavin and Barin were in the first room.

Stavin took the opportunity to strip to the skin and use his blanket to dry off with. He hung his under-padding to dry a little and was in the process of drying the inside of his armor when someone knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" Stavin asked.

"Barvil," a muffled voice said from the hall.

Barin answered, "Come in, Sir," as both young men wrapped blankets around their waists.

The door opened, but it wasn't Barvil who entered. Three men rushed into the room and attacked Stavin. They swarmed him with rope and twisted cloth in their hands, trying to capture him. They ignored Barin until he drove his Dragon's Tongue into the last man's back.

The other two turned to defend themselves, and Barin suddenly found himself facing two swords. He stabbed out at one man and left his Dragon's Tongue standing in the man's chest, then drew his own sword.

The fight was uneven and Barin was being forced back when the man suddenly looked startled and collapsed. Barvil was behind him and had driven his sword through the man's back. "I thought I heard my name, so I came to investigate," he said, wiping his blade on the man's clothing. "Stavin, are you all right?"

"Stave?" Barin asked when there was no answer.
"Stave!"
he shouted and crossed the room quickly to where Stavin was slumped against the wall. He grabbed Stavin's shoulders to shake him, but a spot of red caught his eye. "He's been stabbed!"

Barvil turned over the bed to make room and knelt beside him, grabbing Stavin's hands to reveal the wound. There was a hole in his stomach, just below his ribs. "Kahndar! Horvan! Get in here!" he shouted as he pressed his hands over the wound. The two older men were already in the hall and ran into the room. "Stavin has been stabbed. Kahn, I bought that pot of Heal-All from Elain. It's in my pack. Go. Horvan, armor up and get back as fast you can." Barvil turned back to Stavin, confident that his orders were being obeyed.

Kahndar returned in just moments and handed Barvil the pot of salve. "I brought your sewing kit as well, Sir," he said as he knelt.

"Good," Barvil said as he pressed some of the salve into Stavin's wound. Kahndar had threaded a needle without being told and had it ready when Barvil turned toward him. "Good man," was Barvil's only comment.

Horvan came back armed and armored, and stood in the doorway with his sword bare in his hands. He said, "Armor up, Barin," then turned to face the hallway.

Barin quickly squirmed into his mail and buckled his plate as well as he could, then walked over to stand behind Horvan. "Stand tall, and I'll finish buckling your plate," he said and Horvan raised his elbows without changing his ready pose. Barin was done in a few moments and patted Horvan on the shoulder.

"Your turn, Barin," Kahndar said, and Barin turned to face him. Kahndar made short work of buckling the armor, then left to get his own. When he returned, Barvil spoke to all three of them.

"We are not staying here. Pack up. I'll get a litter for Stavin when I go get our money back." He glanced back to where Stavin was stretched out on the floor. "I don't like the location of that stab wound."

Barvil was only gone for a short time. He returned with a litter and the manager of the hostel. Another man trailed them silently, staying several steps back. The manager was wringing his hands as he walked and blood from a fresh cut on his face told the tale of what kind of persuasion Barvil had used on him.

"This has never happened before, good Sir. We've never had anyone attacked here. Never."

Barvil handed the litter to Kahndar and motioned towards Stavin. "I'm sure Friend Stavin will take comfort in knowing that he was the first person attacked here. I'm sure his majesty will also find the incident quite interesting."

The other man stepped forward and got Barvil's attention. "Goodman Barvil, I would like to see the writ as proof that this is in fact Friend Stavin, please." He spoke softly, but his voice carried through the room.

Barvil went to Stavin's gear and retrieved the writ, and handed it over without a word. The man scanned the document, then rolled it up and handed it back to Barvil. "Very well. There will be no charges against your men."

"Sheriff Kel'Orman, what about—?"

"You're lucky I don't take you before Lord Zel'Ival. You run this place at his pleasure, and I doubt he's going to be pleased to hear that Friend Stavin was attacked under your roof."

"Yes, Sheriff Kel'Orman," the manager said in a very respectful tone.

Kahndar and Horvan had placed Stavin on the litter while Barvil was dealing with the sheriff, and Barin busied himself bundling their gear. Barvil waited until the sheriff and manager had gone before he addressed his men.

"Did you search the bodies?"

Kahndar snapped to attention before replying. "Yes, Sir. Three swords I wouldn't use in practice and twenty-seven copper coins from three different kingdoms. If they were being paid, they hadn't collected yet."

"Very well," Barvil said. "Barin first with the gear, then you two with Stavin." He drew his sword and pointed out the door. "I'll bring up the rear. Head for the caravan."

Barvil watched every shadow on the short walk back to the wagons. With the younger men all burdened, he was their only defense. Several people stopped what they were doing to stare as they passed, but no one approached them.

K
ARVIK WAS THE FIRST TO SEE
them and broke away from the wagons at a run, shouting, "Trouble from the town side," to bring more help. Davel came at a run to see what the trouble was and met Barvil near their wagon.

"Three men tried to take Stavin," Barvil explained without stopping. "Get some braces to make a tent out of that canvas. We're staying in the wagon."

"How's Stave?" Karvik asked, crowding forward to look.

"Stabbed, high on his stomach. It looks bad," Barvil answered, patting Karvik on the shoulder. "Get back on guard." He gave Karvik a little shove to get him going, then turned to the wagon. Barin had shoved their gear under the tarp and climbed into the wagon to hold it clear while Kahndar and Horvan slid Stavin in amongst their tack and belongings.

Trader Sahren arrived with several of her people in response to the alarm, and listened to Barvil's terse explanation. She turned her head slightly and said, "Fetch Angeleese," and one of the traders immediately ran off to obey her. "You others, get railings from an unused paddock. Bring lashings so we can throw together a framework over the wagon." When the rest of her people had gone to do her bidding, she turned back to Barvil.

"Angeleese isn't a full healer, but she is an apprentice-class healer-mage. She's dealt with stabbings before." Sahren paused to shake her head. "And once again, someone has tried to kill him because of that armor."

Barvil could only nod his agreement. "They wanted him alive, probably for ransom. He was only stabbed after Barin interfered."

"Don't let the boy hear you say that, Barvil. It's guilt he doesn't need," Sahren said. "It would have been worse if he hadn't acted."

"I know. I just have to make sure he knows."

The traders started coming back with timber railings then and Barvil and Sahren joined in the effort to position them. In just a few moments, they had lifted the tarp and secured an A-frame over the wagon.