The Sword of Stone - Sworn Honours

Chapter 5: A Stab in the Dark

After a light supper consisting of bread and cheese, salted pork and spiced ale, the pair retired to rooms prepared for them: a dry, poorly constructed hut with holes in the ceiling. Yet the beds were better than expected, made from soft bear hides that kept Rolan warm and cosy like he was lying on a cloud, even wrapped in armour. Rolan woke up the next day later than expected, having the best sleep since arriving at the barony. Yawning, he got up and went outside, seeing Lucan seated by the fence. His eyes were red and puffy as he glanced up at Rolan.

'You heard those bloody owls last night?' he asked tiredly.

Rolan leaned on the fence next to him and chuckled slightly. 'It is a good thing these people aren't hostile. I don't think I slept so well in my life,' he said, disappointed in himself. A paladin should never let his guard down, he thought, glancing at the passing settlers who peaked over at them both suspiciously. 

The healer approached them, her eyes squinting with an ugly smile; she looked at Lucan as she neared. 'See, boy, your head's still on yer shoulders.' She cackled 

Lucan was about to respond, incredulously glaring at the women. However, Rolan broke in before that could happen. 'You have my thanks for the supper and bed. Is there something we could do for you?'

Her eyes lingered on Lucan with a sneer, turning her gaze onto Rolan. 'Nah, figured I'd tell you that those trappers arrived early in the morning. I'll welcome you for breakfast after that yell begone.'

'Many thanks. However, I feel we've overstayed our welcome. Just point us to where we need to go, and we'll be on,' Rolan said courteously.

She nodded. 'If you insist, let's be going then,' she gestured for them to follow. Lucan went over to their mounts, grabbing his pack and throwing it over his shoulder. Rolan stuck close to the healer and kept an eye on the people who were always watching them—eyes as harsh as wrought iron. 

They followed a winding path through the settlement, approaching the base of the hill and seeing a stream trickle down into a small pond under it. They continued, going up the hill, with Lucan stopping briefly to drink water from the pond. As they moved, Rolan saw the many holes up close, with more miners nearby using a metal tool which screwed around in the dirt, kicking up stones from beneath the earth. One man examined the rocks, cleaned them, and tossed them aside. 

'What are they looking for?' Lucan asked as he caught up.

'Amber, the namesake of these woods. Out here, there is nothing more valuable. It is our lifeblood,' she told him, turning a snarky smile at the lad. 'You think they named this place because of the colour of leaves?' she scoffed, looking at Rolan. 'A sharp one, isn't he?' 

Rolan ignored it and looked on with mild fascination at the amber miners. Seems like a simple life, he thought.  

They were proceeding toward the upper section of the hill, where stones were laid down, forming a rudimentary staircase up the steeper part of the hill. Crossing over and going down the other side, Rolan's nostrils were hit with a thick, gamely scent, not too dissimilar to boar. Down the slope, they sighted a clearing nestled amongst trees with a camp set up. A fire was in the centre, with a spit maintained by a cook, who turned a thick meat as red as the trees surrounding them. 

Unkempt folks, which almost all had long beards and hair, muggy and rustled, with faces weathered and worn. One man was near a group of spears leaning against the tree trunk beside him, with a black and brown dog as huge as a bear. The spears were much like the ones used in times of war: leaf-shaped blades with a narrow crossguard at the heft attached to a thick, charred oak shaft. Giant bundles of fur were stacked on the ground next to another tree. As they came to the bottom of the hill, Rolan spotted a mountain of a man, who had turned to stare at them as if he sensed them. He was tall and rounded, with a green linen tunic with sleeves rolled up, exposing the muscle mass along his arms.