Lhors smiled faintly and went with the warrior, who strode through a maze of narrow streets into a market area. The youth was lost within moments. The inn where they finally stopped was a pleasant little place behind a low hedge and a well-swept courtyard. The food itself smelled plain and familiar.
Lhors’ nose twitched, and his mouth began to water asVlandar steered him to a bench in the corner where they could see the street. In the paddock across the street, two goats and a swaybacked horse jostled for place at a manger of hay and a pile of spotty cabbage leaves. He forgot about that as a gaunt young woman in shapeless brown roughspun came bustling over with two wooden bowls. A simple-looking hulk of a man came right behind her carrying a heavy black kettle. He held the steaming pot while she ladled soup to the very tops of the bowls. Lhors sipped the broth gingerly, then sighed happily, picked up the bowl, and drank down the contents.
“Your friend has good taste,” the girl said as she refilledthe bowl. This time she added an extra scoop of vegetables and barley from the bottom.
Vlandar gave her a copper coin for more bread before dipping his crust in the broth. He ate absently as the boy finished what he had, then took down another bowl of broth and two manchets of black bread. Finally, Lhors shoved the bowl aside and sighed. “Thank you, Vlandar. I was hunting with Fatherfor days before-before the giants came. I barely recall my last true meal. Ifthere is any use I can be to you to pay back your kindness, sir…”
“I didn’t feed you simply for that,” Vlandar said, “but yes,I do need to know everything you can tell me about those giants. If I could question you…?” He let that hang.
Lhors nodded sharply. His face was pale. He was about to begin when a shadow crossed the table. The youth edged back nervously as Vlandar leaped his feet, but he relaxed when the warrior began laughing. Vlandar clasped a pale-haired fellow by his chain-mail-clad biceps and shouted, “Malowan! Whendid you get into Cryllor? And what are you doing here, of all places?”
Malowan’s voice was enormous, filling the room. “Vlandar, itreally is you! Thought you’d be out riding around the hills like that last twotimes I came this way! I’m here because the king is-partly, at least.”
Lhors eyed the man curiously. He wasn’t much taller orbroader than Lharis. A chain-mail coif covered all but the fringes of his straw-colored hair, and he wore heavy-looking scale mail girt with a wide belt that held two swords. Lhors’ eyes went wide as they fixed on the silver devicehammered into the mail from the man’s left shoulder to mid-breast. It was alightning bolt and fist, like the one on the shrine of Heironeous.
Vlandar settled on the bench and gestured for the newcomer tojoin them. “Malowan’s a friend of mine-and a paladin. Mal, meet Lhors. Hisfather was once a captain here.”
“A captain!” The paladin smiled and held out a hand. “And nowyou’ve come to join?” But he shook his head. “No, you’re here because somethingamiss. I can see that much.”
Lhors simply stared at him, wide-eyed. Vlandar nodded. “Ofcourse you’d sense it.”
“Any paladin past his first pledge would,” the other man saidmildly.
“Lhors is from the hill country near the Yeomanry border.Giants razed his village, and he’s just about the only survivor.”
“Heironeous have mercy upon them all,” Malowan murmured. Hiseyes moved beyond the table, searching the street briefly. “I’m truly sorry,lad. But, Vlandar, giants attacking a village? That’s unheard of!”
“It was,” the warrior said grimly. “But-have you eaten? Ifnot, sit anyway. I have a proposition for you.”
“Have you?”
Someone out in the street was shouting. The paladin’sattention shifted briefly. He blinked and then settled on the end of the bench. “I’m waiting for someone, as it happens-but I can listen, meantime.”
Vlandar made a concise story of it, but Malowan was already shaking his head before the warrior could finish. “I’m sorry, my friend. I’vealready taken on a matter that’s-well, never mind the specifics, but it’s afull-time occupation. I’ll be glad to pass the word for you, though. Nemis isback in the vicinity-or was, last I heard.”
“Nemis? You mean the mage? I heard he’d renounced the worldand turned hermit.”
Malowan came to his feet as a high-pitched argument broke out somewhere down the way. “Hmm? Oh, he told me he liked his own company less thanthat of a crowd. He’s a good mage, and he speaks Giantish, I think.”
Someone in the street uttered a piercing shriek. The paladin glanced outside, then hurriedly got up, offered a quick, “Uh, excuse me,” andwas out the door.
Vlandar got to his feet and looked out the window. Lhors followed his gaze. He could see the paladin sprinting toward the street, where a swirl of people was trying to move away from the vicinity of the yelling. He could just make out the tips of two blunted pikes pushing their way through the crowd.
“See those pikes?” Vlandar asked Lhors. “Those are marketguards. Malowan may need my help. I’ll return.”
Lhors craned his neck, watching as both men vanished into the crowd. He couldn’t make out a thing, but it was easy to see where theproblem was. People ringed an area ten paces or so across, and all the yelling was coming from there. He could now make out guards in the melee, but not much else.
“If I stay away from the guards, I’ll be all right,” Lhorstold himself as he edged off the bench and out the door. It was a moment’s workto ease through the crowd. While there were plenty of curious types watching, hardly anyone wanted to be too close to the guards-those pikes were used toshove people around, after all.
Lhors slipped around a gray-haired woman in a faded blue kerchief and all at once he could see just fine. Vlandar had a hand on Malowan’s arm and seemed to be trying to pull the paladin away from four market guards in the lord’s blue. Two of the guards were keeping a watchful eye on the crowd.Malowan was arguing-but very politely-with the two other stone-faced guards whoclutched a grubby little street-urchin between them-possibly the cutpurse Lhorshad seen earlier, or another very like. The child looked no older than ten, but its vocabulary was shockingly adult. Lhors didn’t understand half what thelittle creature screeched, but now and again one of the guards winced. The kerchiefed woman began muttering about ill-spawned children and what she’dlike to do to this one in particular.
Vlandar finally seemed to gain control of the situation. He’dpulled another guard from the crowd-this one had a red officer’s stripe on hissleeve-and after a short discussion the guard thrust the child at Malowan. Thepaladin gripped one dirty ear and silently pulled the little one through the crowd, which parted around them. Several older boys snickered as the two passed. The urchin lashed out with a stream of shrill curses and a kick. Malowan looked exasperated. He mumbled something, scooped the child up over his shoulder, and strode back toward the inn.
Vlandar was laughing and shaking his head as he came back across the avenue. “That, my young friend, is Malowan’s ‘other business’. He’strying to reform a market thief. He has a ways to go, I’d say. Let’s go backinside. I could use a pot of ale.”
To Lhors’ surprise, Malowan seemed to be waiting for them,his skinny companion sulking on the bench next to him. “You hadn’t finished,Vlandar,” he said as the soldier gestured for service. “You were about to tellme why this expedition would be a useful part of Agya’s training.”
“To the nine hells with that and you!” Agya snappedshrilly.
“Language, child. We’re discussing your future.”
“You ought not to have come out there,” the child repliedsulkily.
“You would have spent a night in the cells had I not. Iwarned you. The guards know who you are and where you operate.”
“Only ’cause you told ’em, then!”
“I did not, and you know I do not lie. Agya, you’reangry because you were caught, nothing more.”