Echoes of the Past

Chapter Eight - Part Two

Chapter Eight: The Seven Keys - Part Two  

"Likely the most excitement you'll find in this town," Sam told them. He sat back and looked around them. "That's why I've always liked these small little towns. Time moves slower here. Never much excitement."

The bartender slammed a fist on the bar, his suppressed voice yelling out, "Enough!"

The curly haired man shook his head. After some more heated whispers between them, the man held his hands up, shaking his head dejectedly, and made his way through the tables. James saw the desperate look on his sweaty red face as he passed them and stormed out.

"Never that much excitement, anyway," Sam added, raising his brows and taking another sip.

"You fellas looking for excitement?" a smooth voice said. It belonged to a broad shouldered man who approached them. He wore a brown leather jacket, his loosely buttoned shirt showing a hairy chest. He unslung the sword over his back as he pulled a chair closer and sat next to them, leaning an elbow on the back of the chair.

"Just so happens I've come from a bit of excitement which might interest you folk." He flashed a broad smile, creasing his tanned skin that almost matched his leather jacket.

"We were just saying how we were enjoying the quiet of the small town, actually," Sam said lightly.

The man nodded dismissively, rubbing a hand over his stubbled cheek. He leaned in closer. "Aye, aye, the peace and quiet. I do love that myself. But what I love more–and what I think you fellas will enjoy more–is some honestly shiny trinkets. You see, I'm a merchant around these parts. A merchant of... exotic wares. I've just come into possession of some never before seen treasures, looted from a cave in the far West Sands. This cave, now, belonged to a Red Monk."

His grey-blue eyes narrowed as he leaned even closer."An actual Red Monk, that had been hoarding the best loot for hundreds of years. And now I've got me that loot. Which I'm willing to sell, to the right people."

He leaned back and looked over the three of them, grinning. "So what say you? After a piece or two of history? Something that could change your lives. I see you fellas are no strangers to dangers." He nodded towards the scars showing under Sam's shirt sleeve and neck.

"The offer sounds mighty fine," Sam said. "But likely far more than we could afford."

The man kept his hard gaze locked on Sam a moment, before his expression softened. "Well I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. You may have things of more value than you're aware of." He flashed another grin.

James noticed the man's breath was sharp, and that his eyes constantly watched them, darting back and forth. His blue eyes, thin lips and fair hair gave him a foreign appearance. Definitely not a Canarrian or Canthian. If he was from Carnan, it was likely from the southern continents.

When the man's gaze settled on Evan, he said, "Perhaps this young lengki has something worth trading."

Evan stiffened across the table. James was not familiar with the word, but he felt the air had changed after the man had spoken it. He studied Evan, whose cheeks had flushed with anger

***

Evan's heart raced.

While the stranger had been addressing Sam, Evan noticed that the man's focus was mostly on him. His cold eyes lingered whenever they fell on him. Now this ignorant man had revealed his true purpose.

"Now there, we're just after a quiet drink," Sam said, keeping his voice even. "We're not interested in your loot."

The man regarded Sam. "Oh, I meant no offence, of course. Just don't see many lengki's around these parts, is all. Rumours of them being well acquainted with treasure and all intrigues a man like me."