Cobalt Crown - Book One

Prologue: The Shadows of Men

     A buffeting wind cut through the air as the sounds of creaking cart wheels made the ache of a long journey seem more like a dull, forgotten pain. There was nothing left to speak about, really, so silence claimed most of the day. Tonn and Millen rode at the front, with Tonn manning the reins, while Mill dozed in the bench seat. They were easily distinguishable, mainly because Tonn was a young man, and wore no beard, whereas Millen was well into his waning years, and hadn't had a shave in several weeks. In the back, under cover of canvas, sat a trio of able-bodied young men. They had paid their full sovereign, but their sharp eyes still cut Tonn right to the bone as he turned to address them, pointing.

     "Kinsweyr, up ahead."

     One of the three nodded, but they remained silent. They sat on crates and barrels filled with various fruits and grains. Some housed other items such as thread, tallow, or salt. One of the barrels in the front of the cart was filled as much as it could be with butter from the surrounding farms. The one who had nodded shot a glance to the one closest to the back. He whispered.

     "Sem, is he still following us?"

     "Yep," The man at the back whispered, not taking his eyes off the road behind them. A single rider had left with the cart from Dirrem and had followed them since, always keeping the same distance. When they stopped, he stopped. When they moved, he moved. Like a shadow. It set Sem on edge. It was as if the rider was waiting for something.

     He wore a hood over his head, and rode a chestnut horse with an irregularly shaped white patch on its face.

     The cart hit a rock, jostling the trio and almost knocking over a barrel onto the third man, Sem, who reacted quickly and caught it, taking his eyes off of the road. Millen started awake.

     "Oy, watch where you're going up there!"

     "The road's a mess these days," retorted Tonn. "What do you want me to do about it? Complain to the baron, if you don't want to deal with rocks on the road."

     Sem looked back behind them. Their follower on horseback was gone. Sem sat up, his eyes widened.

     "Oy, Vern, Sebi. He's gone! He was there a minute ago, but now he's gone!"

     The other two men in the back of the cart looked back anxiously. Sebi said:

     "Good riddance, I say. What kind of help is he when he rides three fields back from a merchant cart when he's supposed to be guarding it?"

     Vern nodded in agreement, but Sem couldn't help but glance back occasionally in an effort to extinguish the sinking feeling he had about the rider. If he could see him, it would settle his nerves just a little bit. Sem inadvertently clutched the leather-wrapped club at his side and continued scanning the back of the trail.

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     Kinsweyr loomed in the distance, a small blip barely visible on any map of even Dwarven design. Its outline was rather short, made up of mostly one or two-story stone buildings. A small stone wall surrounded it, more to protect against wandering threats than an army's siege. The road had shifted several miles back from laid stone to packed earth, signifying a change into the rural, less civilized section of the kingdom of Alain. Tonn was falling asleep himself, even with Millen's snoring, when a blue light lit up not ten fields from the cart. Tonn knew this to be a guard outpost, and spied movement as he pulled the cart up to the one story stone building. A man in plate armor came out and stepped in front of the cart, stopping it.

     "Who is travelling into Kinsweyr?"

     "Piss off, Vander, it's Tonn and Millen," Tonn yelled from the bench.