“If we start leaving a trail of dead guards and missing slaves, they’ll be onto us,” Galvin whispered.
“I know,” Wynter said in as soft a voice as he could manage. “I was just watching. It brought back some old memories.”
It was late when Elwin directed them to a small but thickly wooded area behind an abandoned barn. It stood a few miles from the orchard, and he claimed there was a clearing inside. Traveling in the darkness had slowed their progress. They weren’t as deep into Thay as they had expected to be.
Brenna suggested staying in the barn; she envisioned sleeping on a pile of soft hay. But Elwin insisted that patrols watched empty buildings carefully, because runaway slaves were drawn to them. She sighed and reluctantly agreed to accept the patch of trees. The vegetation was overgrown, and Elwin had difficulty climbing through it, but he seemed to know what he was doing. The leaves of the trees and bushes were wet; the drops of water shone in the starlight. It had rained here recently, perhaps only an hour or two before.
The centaur followed the guide, making a thrashing sound as his massive form disappeared into the foliage. Following him was relatively easy, Brenna discovered, since he had made a small path through the brush. By the time she reached the center of the clearing, she discovered that Galvin was already there. She had assumed he was behind her. Irritated at his speed and quietness, she muttered something under her breath, not caring at the moment if he heard her.
Patches of tall grass were scattered in the clearing. Elwin made a show of stomping them down for Brenna. He gallantly waved his arms, indicating she should sit.
“This place should be safe,” Elwin announced. “I’ve used this spot before when I skipped out on patrol duty. We’re not too near a road. The orcs’ll stay away because of all the bugs and ’cause it’s so wet. It rains a lot here ’cause of the orchard.”
Brenna scowled and fell to her knees, reaching out with her hands to find some place that was dry. “You mean it rains because of the Red Wizards.”
The enchantress was frustrated that she couldn’t find a dry spot to sit on, but she was too tired and proud to complain about it aloud. Rummaging in her smaller bag, she pulled out a heavy linen cloak and laid it on the ground under an elm. She sat unceremoniously on it, no longer caring if she wrinkled or ruined her clothes. Letting out a low moan, Brenna gingerly removed her antelope-skin slippers, leaning forward to accomplish the task. Her legs hurt too much to move them closer to her torso.
“Gods, I’m tired,” she said, and she began to rub her feet. They were blistered and sore, and for a moment she wished there was enough moonlight filtering through the trees so she could look at them.
“Want me to do that for you?” Elwin offered.
Wynter tapped the guide on top of his bald head. “Why don’t you get some sleep now?” The centaur was surprised when Elwin complied without argument. The guide leaned back on the ground, stretched, made himself comfortable, and began to snore softly.
Galvin sat spread-eagled in the center of the clearing, watching Elwin. Satisfied the guide wouldn’t pester Brenna, the druid began to search through his satchel. He had difficulty finding the correct root in the darkness, but eventually his efforts were successful.
“Here,” he said to Brenna, tossing her an object that looked like a misshapen carrot. “Rub that on your feet. It’ll help get rid of the blisters. Crack it first so the juice oozes out.”
Wynter glanced at the druid, about to comment on his friend’s compassion, but Galvin glared at him. Don’t say anything, the druid warned with his look.
Wynter smiled. “I just wanted to point out we should stay here in the grove tonight. We’d be wise to wait until the morning slave crews start before we move on.”
Galvin nodded then turned his attention back to Brenna. “Wrap your feet. Amruthar’s not going to be a short hike.”
“Thank you for being so concerned,” she snapped.
“I am concerned,” the druid said simply. “I can’t let you slow us down. I don’t intend for this mission to take weeks.”
“Slow you down?” she fumed, rising to her knees. “With a spell, I could fly to Amruthar!”
“Provided you knew where the city was.”
“I know where it is.”
“And you think that would be a good idea?” Galvin posed. “A great accomplishment, flying off on your own. More like a great liability.”
“Don’t talk to me about liabilities. At least I know how to talk to people. I know how to be civil. But you—” she sputtered, waking Elwin and drawing his attention. “You’ve got less manners than an orc!”
“I’m honest with people. And at least I don’t shout at them,” Galvin returned evenly, wishing he had never offered her the root.
“No, you don’t have to shout,” she taunted. “You can insult them just fine without even raising your voice. Ever try to be nice to someone?”
“I was trying to be nice to you.” Galvin grimaced.
She propped herself into a sitting position and picked up the root. “Oh, go talk to a bullfrog or something,” she groused.
“Hey, pipe down, willya?” Elwin broke in. “I had a long shift before the trip here, and I’m trying to sleep. I can’t guide you anywhere tomorrow if you keep me up all night.” The man dropped his head back into the grass. “Sheesh! Do they always fight like that?”
“No,” the centaur replied, watching Galvin and Brenna glare at each other. He was relieved to see that the sorceress was using the root on her feet. “In fact, I thought they were just starting to get along.”
“If that’s getting along, I wish they’d get along somewhere else,” Elwin grumbled.
“Elwin, you’ve got me curious,” the centaur said softly. “Your name means ‘friend to the elves’ doesn’t it? There aren’t many elves in Thay, so that must mean you’re not a native Thayvian.”
“You’re pretty smart, centaur,” Elwin mumbled, sitting up and brushing the grass and dirt from his side. He yawned, displaying his broken teeth. “I’m originally from the Sword Coast… worked on a pirate ship. A few years ago, our ship started hauling slaves to Thay. I got to like this place, so I stayed.” He winked at Wynter. “The orchard patrol pays well, and I do a little slaving on the side—children.”
Wynter was losing his patience with the evil man. “Elwin,” he said evenly, “does your slaving operation ever take you into Amruthar?”
“It takes me a lot of places,” Elwin answered, sounding businesslike. “Amruthar’s only one of ’em. Largest city around here. Two or three times a week, slaves are shipped in and put up for sale. They’re cheaper than cattle.”
“Amruthar,” Wynter pressed angrily, not wanting to hear another word about Elwin’s slave practices. “What is the city like now? Are the streets patrolled? Can slaves on missions for their masters walk freely? Who rules the city?”
Elwin sighed. “I’ve never been hassled much in the city. If you haven’t done anything to offend a wizard or tharchion, you should be all right.”
“Are there many centaurs?”
“Like you? Not many are as big as you,” Elwin said, “but there are plenty of your type walking around.”
The man sickened Wynter. The centaur believed every being had a right to choose his or her own course in life. Elwin had chosen his course long ago, but the slaves he and others in Thay dealt in could not choose. And Elwin seemed to think of them as nothing but a commodity.
“We’re looking for a Red Wizard who’s supposed to be in Amruthar,” Wynter continued.
“A Red Wizard? There’s plenty of ’em in Amruthar. Plenty all over Thay, for that matter,” Elwin said with a snicker.