The Tale Teller

Ch 24

 It was unnerving to have all eyes on him, watching, waiting, as the guard who bellowed the commands shouted out another for Vaun to halt once more. He was at the side of the wagon, feet only just touching the ground. The order almost made him lose his balance.

A guard next to the ringleader stepped forward, marching over to Vaun with a stagger like a man still half-asleep. He confirmed it with a stifled yawn as he looked Vaun up and down.

"Don't move." His voice wasn't as loud and demanding as his fellow guard but it still held an authority within it.

Vaun obediently stayed where he was, watching as the man held back another yawn as he moved around to the back of the wagon. The rattle came from the back doors before the guard called out to Vaun to come.

"Open these." He gestured to the doors, stuck from how the wood had swollen in the rain.

It took Vaun two firms tugs before the doors flew open, and the guard cocked one hip as he gave yet another yawn. This one wasn't hidden, it was wide and long with his head thrown back. When he finished he took a brief glance towards the interior of the wagon, before shrugging.

There were a few leftover sacks that the wool had come in, Vaun had had the idea to pack them around the body. They concealed it well, especially in the dark, and as the guard turned away, Vaun was grateful for the paranoia that had insisted upon doing it.

"Sacks, huh. Any full?"

"A few. Wool." The guard hasn't asked for the contents, but Vaun knew he soon would. If he told him now, the less time may need to be spent with the doors open.

"Where are you bringing it?"

"To the hamlets." The man shrugged again, expression seeming far from interested. He reached out to slam one of the doors closed, inspection over.

"Why at night?"

"Fog's likely to come down early morning, we wanted to make progress before then."

"Eh," the guard raised a hand, scratching at the tuft of a beard forming on his chin. "In that case, if you're coming back to Cragbarrow, I'd say you'd make it for the festival of Sifa."

"Good." Vaun didn't know what that was, but he was thankful when the guard nodded for him to close the other wagon door. He moved back to his collegues and Vaun to the front of the wagon.

"It's only wool!" The guard who had given the initial commands nodded firmly, as though satisfied with his friend's findings. They must have known each other well to have so much trust. The half-asleep guard said something to him once close enough, and the leader nodded again before turning to Vaun. "You may proceed!"

Without a word, he climbed up onto the bench and grabbed the horse's reins from where they lay over the rail. No one spoke as Vaun urged the gelding forward, past the group of guards slowly shuffling back to whatever secret location they had come from. The silence was almost too much as their voices faded and the rustle of trees was all that replaced them. John gave a cough, and it was like slamming of a door in the middle of the night. Celise jumped, and Vaun finally mustered up the courage to speak.

"Are you well?" She nodded, scooting along the bench until their thighs touched.

"How did he not see?"

"Vaun threw some sacks over the legs." Celise grimaced at John's whisper, clearly not comfortable thinking about the body of her father only a hand's width behind where she sat.

"He seemed too asleep to care." The guard had made it obvious he'd rather be anywhere but stood at the back of the wagon in the middle of the night. Vaun was grateful for that.