Threads of Vengeance

Part 1 Chapter 4

Outskirts of Megar

Wheels groaned and rattled as a line of wagons slowly made their way through a remote stony mountain path. Kanth drove the rearmost wagon. It was nearly dawn and a few of the earlier birds had begun their song. Cicadas chirped in with them and somewhere far away a wolf howled creating a rather eerie music. One, that was completely ruined by loud, incessant snoring from the back of the wagon.

A couple of minutes later, the snoring subsided and was replaced by loud fit of coughing. A moment later a fuming Keto appeared in the front of the wagon.

“What happened?” asked Kanth.

“Some whoreson shoved a sock down my throat for no reason.”

“No reason? I'm sure the whole of Megar is awake thanks to your snoring.” laughed Kanth.

“Its not all that bad” huffed Keto. “So, are we there yet?”

“Nearly” said Kanth, pointing towards a castle that had just appeared over the horizon. “We should be there by midday.”

“What were we hired for?” asked Keto

“Some minor nobles squabbling over some castle.”

“Where?”

“Maybe you shouldn't have slept through the commander's explanation,” said Kanth glaring at Keto.

“Can't help it, his voice always makes me go to sleep.”

“Fine, somewhere around Megar,” said Kanth.

“Can't you be more specific?” Keto whined

“Can't you be more awake?” countered Kanth.

Keto whistled in response. Out of tune as it was, Kanth recognised the song. An old, children's rhyme.

Run child run

There's no time for fun

Stop not anywhere

You can hide, nowhere

 

All you can do child,

Is run into the wild

And don't you dare bleed

For tis' greed you will feed

 

Trust no pretty lass

Touch no tinker's glass

Run child run

There's no time for fun...

He suffered with Keto’s terrible rendition of the song, a combination of whistling and sing, both terrible off key.

                                                                   * * *

They arrived at the castle sooner than Kanth had predicted. It was still mid morning. They were greeted by sounds of battle as a small army attacked at the castle. The castle in question was not very large as castles went, but it wasn't very small either. The mercenaries stopped a little away from the battle and assembled.

The commander a tall, wiry man who went by the name Namir addressed them in his sing song Cerurian accent. “We have been paid to defend the castle. They promised hundred gold for the man who gets the general's head.”