Echoes of the Past

Chapter Twenty - Part Two

Chapter Twenty: Aftermath - Part Two

A man in a loose jumper and faded, frayed trousers stopped several feet away. He jerked back and raised his hands in the air. His round face held a flustered, wide-eyed expression.

"Ho–no, no," he said in a heavy Canarrian accent. "No, no. I mean no harm."

James thought the man looked familiar, but then a lot of Canarrian's had a similar red-skin, dark haired look.

Sam stepped forward. "Who goes there?"

"I–Castan. My–my name's Castan. I have no weapon." He kept his hands raised, his dark eyes on the sceptre Evan pointed at him.

James suddenly remembered where he had seen the man before. "You were in the tavern, earlier. We saw you arguing with the bartender."

The man gave a shaky nod, spilling a few curls onto his sweaty forehead. "Aye. Old friends we are, he and I. Just a misunderstanding, is all."

"What can we do for you?" Sam asked.

With his eyes darting between Evan's sceptre and Sam, the man said, "I could not help but overhear you with Dony–the mousslo owner. You said you were looking for passage to Riondon." He gulped as his eyes fell on the sceptre again. "I am a tour guide. Famed in these parts. I can get you to Riondon, in half the time you predicted. Keeping away from the main roads, of course."

Sam eyed the man. James sensed he was thinking the same thing as him. He wondered how much this man had overheard, and if he knew they had Red Guards looking for them.

"You've seen the danger that follows us," Sam said.

Castan lowered his elbows as he took a step forward, but kept his fingers spread at his sides. "And I have seen how you can handle the danger. Your company does not worry me. That hunter, Audlin, has been a nuisance in these parts for quite some time. Actually, a friend of mine owed him money. I did not wish such a fate for him, but I am glad he is gone."

Sam appeared to relax as he shifted his footing. Evan kept his sceptre raised.

"Tour guide, you say?" Sam asked.

Castan nodded again. "The best on Medropon. Lived here all my life. In fact, I dropped off a small group into town earlier, and was planning on leaving this morning, to find my next charge. Like an early start, I do."

"You know a quicker way through the Reshaavi Canyon?" Sam asked.

"The Reshaavi?" Castan scoffed. "You are clearly not from these parts, my friend. But, well, that was obvious enough. No, we can go over the dunes to the west, towards the foothills of the Dusk Mountains. A harder ride for the mousslos, but, much quicker than the Reshaavi. If you know the way through the hills."

Sam sheathed his sword. "Very well. Accepted. If that truly gets us to Riondon in half the time."

Castan raised three fingers, a smile creasing his pudgy face. "Three hours, with no stops. But perhaps the mousslos may need a rest. You folk look like you may need some rest time also."

Evan finally relaxed his stance and lowered the sceptre. "Your help would be appreciated," he said, though his voice was tight.

A mousslo stamped and moaned in the stalls. One of the animals approached the opened gate, its feet clopping on the hard earth.

"Here, let me," Castan said, jogging towards the stalls.

He went around the far side of the stalls, into the direction the merchant had gone. James peered around the corner to see what he was doing, but Castan soon returned. He carried a bundle of leather saddles with both hands, long straps and stirrups swinging with his steps.