Cambolton's Fall

Chapter Five

The old man hobbled out into the large antechamber of the castle. The walk back towards the entrance had been a quiet one. Brin was torn between excitement and dread. They would be traveling across the continent to Cambolton Citadel, with the potential of facing an army of undead.

Pleasant.

The chamberlain stopped then, turning around to face the group. "I will make sure to send a messenger to your tavern with the writ by tomorrow at sundown. Though I don't think it's exactly what his Majesty wants, I will make sure there is a traveling allowance with it. Make sure you send someone to retrieve it before you leave." The chamberlain gestured towards the heavy front doors then, signaling the end of their brief talk.

Once outside, a carriage was called for their escort back to The Spotted Pig. The carriage was roomy. Brin noted the clean-scrubbed, wooden panel sides and the expensive cushions. There was a door on each side, allowing for easy entrance and exit.

As the coach began to bump along the cobbled street, Gavira said, "I can not believe that is how our meeting with the king went!" Brin looked at her with one raised eyebrow and she glared back. "You being the worst of all! Before I was calling you a barbarian teasingly, but now," she scoffed and shook her head, "I'm not sure that I was very far off the mark!"

Brin stayed still, watching her with one brow raised. A grin crept across his face, knowing what it would do to the high strung woman sitting opposite him.

The response was almost feral. Her frustration escaped in a shriek that made the coach driver yelp in surprise. Warrel burst into laughter then and so did Brin; however, when Brin looked to Bard, he was staring absentmindedly at his hands. Strange. Shouldn't he be the most relieved that the quest was accepted by the king?

Brin nudged Bard with his elbow, trying to get his attention. When the younger man looked up, Brin cocked his head and asked, "What's wrong? I don't see the why we needed it... but we got the king's blessing."

Warrel chimed in then, sitting diagonally across the coach from Brin, "Yes, what exactly was the point of that?" He paused to take a drink from his clay container. "We could have easily done this quest without the snobby child's permission."

Bard shook his head. "I don't know why. I don't know how all of this works. I sometimes get very vivid dreams and visions, and other times it's just flashes of images, smells or sounds. I expected things to be easy. You know? I mean, we're being guided on this journey by a god!" He threw his hands up in exasperation, "Wouldn't that mean that things are just supposed to work out?" He shook his head, "To answer your question frankly, I don't know. I knew we needed to go there because of the smell. I had a vision, or a flash of smells and images in this case, and I could recognize that smell anywhere." He looked out the window, mumbling quietly, almost to himself, "Cinnamon and expensive wine."

The group quieted then, understanding Rolinar's reservations. "You're thinking that if we're facing adversity here, where things are supposed to be easy, then there could be a lot harder challenges ahead, aren't you?", Gavira asked.

Bard just nodded, resuming the solemn staring contest with his knuckles.

The rest of the ride to the Spotted Pig was hushed, the coach seeming less comfortable and more stuffy. As they piled out of the carriage, Rolinar addressed the group as a whole, "We will be leaving in the morning. Make sure you are packed and ready to leave with your belongings. I need some time to myself to think and sort some things out. I'll be back this evening to receive the writ from the king's messenger." He left then, walking down the street towards the outer edges of the capital.

As the three walked into the tavern, Turi greeted them merily. "Ho, friends! Welcome back!" Warrel's greeting was similar, as if greeting old family. Brin and Gavira moved up to their rooms to begin packing, whereas Warrel immediately veered off to take a seat at the bar.