I’m still finding my writing legs I suppose, but I’m getting better (I hope so, Please tell me if I’m not!) at keeping up a plot line. This is part three, I’m thinking of making it a longer post since there is so much to talk about! Enjoy part 3, maybe Evan will actually get somewhere!
Description: Leaving home for Deron, Evan does what he must to do complete his mission.
He packed what he needed. No less no more. It was nearer to morning when he finished, one hand on his bag, his back to the wall. He knew there was no point in asking about the prisoner nor the plight he was certain to face, the Arms-Master was many things, but free with information was not one of them. There was no need for words or questions as the apprentice donned an old travelling cloak and the Arms-Master passed him a letter sealed in the wax of lords. Placing it within his own clothing, he hefted his bag upon one shoulder and swept into the dim light of morning.
It was darker than most mornings, the stars dim but still visible. Evan walked with haste, and slipped out of the castle gates through the side door. He was back outside the wall. It had been 10 years since he had left this place, once a stick of a man. Now he felt confident, and walked with newfound steely reserve through the dirty and overused pathways. The village below was just stirring, shop owners beginning to open stock and take accounts, thieves setting up and scouting their stations, and beggars awaking from their restless slumber.
He paid attention to none of it. Walking steady, he barely noticed a sly young man bump into him until it had already occurred.
“So sorry, good sir” the stranger breathed close to his face, the unsavory smell of garlic and cabbage emanating from his mouth.
“It’s no problem” Evan gritted out, attempting to get around him, “If you don’t mind” he said succinctly, “I need to be on my way”
“No alms for the poor?” the man asked,
“None for thieves” he sneered, and brushed away, disappearing into the shadows of awnings.
He walked quickly now, casting his eyes about the area. It was not long before he made his way to the caravan sectioning of the city. Large and looming carts carrying just about every trade item were lodged here; his wish being to tag along until he reached his location. A large man cooking sausage over a fire looked inviting. Evan headed his way, taking down his hood as he did so, he did not want to appear threatening, after all.
“Good morning, sir. Might I ask a favor of you?” he asked, throwing a friendly smile towards the merchant. He looked up warily,
“Depends what it is, son” the elder man had a rough voice, but kind eyes,
“I’m making my way to Deron, through Crasel. Are you headed that way?” he asked
“I am, as a matter of fact. You want a ride with my caravan, I’m gathering?” the old man was smarter than he looked, and he cast a learned eye on Evan.
“If you wouldn’t mind”
“One thing” he grunted out, “You’ll help with my business. I can always use an extra hand and you look like a steady young man. I won’t ask your business, and you best certainly not ask about mine”
Evan nodded agreeably,
“Is that your caravan up ahead, the large one?” he asked,
“Yep, she’s a beauty. Get your stuff up in there and you can meet the rest of the crew”
Evan felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, how many others were there? He couldn’t have them asking questions that he couldn’t answer. The chance of exposure was too high.
“How many, ahem, companions are there in your crew?” he asked nervously, shifting back and forth
“You’ll see” the old man grumbled, “into the van we go now”