Legacy

Chapter 16 - First Steps

Blending in with the huddled mass of refugees had been a simple matter – there were families, old men and women, young kids being herded by their parents and even fresh-faced youths just looking to be part of the undertaking. Praxis made a great show of the procession. The first group to leave for the rebuilding, they were accompanied by wagons full of supplies and coloured banners.

With all the commotion and excitement as they marched towards their new home, Kane and the prince easily slipped away from the group. They cut through a colourful orchard of ripe green apples. The workers were happy to sell a bagful for the road and it was only a shame that the large looking plums were not yet in season or they would have left with a bag of them as well.

There was a long wall of stacked stones marking the border of the orchard that ended beneath a great old elm tree and babbling brook. Silver fish shimmered in the waters and large fat toads sat enjoying the mud and shade. There was still a fair way to travel yet but it was a pleasant spot to pause for a brief respite. There was no real need to rush – the grain wagons wouldn't leave until late afternoon – and it wouldn't be a problem to catch a ride up to Mellow Creek later in the evening. Even at a leisurely pace, they would arrive long before the inn closed for the night and, knowing the kind of men who worked these fields, there would still be time to enjoy a hot meal and a drink.

For the first time in a long while Kane felt at ease, despite the prince's nervous energy. Falstis was hundreds of rohecks away by now, escorting the nameless criminals to whatever passed for justice in Praxis. By the time the trial was over they would have vanished without a trace. There would be nothing left of their trail but whispers in the wind.

***

Mellow Creek proved to be even smaller than expected. The town was little more than a village with a name sitting at a crossroads. Old trees stood sleepily around the creek that ran through the centre of town. A waterwheel turning slowly and the breeze rustling the leaves were the loudest sounds to be heard. A few sleepy locals sat on their porches with a cool drink of cider enjoying the calm sunny day.

In a few hours carts and wagons would begin rolling in and the town would change into a bustling metropolis. The locals would be doing what needed to be done to resupply the caravans as drivers stopped to rest or split off from the main group to carry on to their own destinations. A few hours of hectic activity and then life would return to its normal sedentary state.

The whole town was smaller than the village the prince and grown up near and there couldn't have been more than a handful of people living here. It wasn't hard to find the small country inn where they would spend the night; the roof was curved at a high angle and built of deep-hued rich woods. There was a small wheel on one side turning in the water and a slightly crooked chimney complete with curling smoke. It was called 'The Laughing Man' according to the colourful purple sign with a grinning character hanging over the door.

A plump woman working behind the counter greeted them both with a big smile and two large mugs of cider. It was sweet with a strong tang, no doubt made from the same green apples that were being cultivated in abundance.

A short negotiation got them their own room with a view and two large slices of a lightly spiced meat pie with a roasted blend of potato and apples. Kane could see the look of disappointment on the proprietor's face when he switched from cider to wine – she was clearly proud of the drink she brewed. Over time, the door to the inn started to open and close with more frequency as more and more people arrived – mostly hard-working folk: carters and drivers, with a few passengers mixed in. All looking for good food, strong drink, and comfort for the night.