The Village of Pranow / PART 3

Circa 300 n.t.
Dannaar, Ero'ia

Lleu Danson dismounted and gave his old horse a grateful pat on the neck. Next to him, two other men dismounted. They were Povl and Walder, his two recruits from Daelom's Gorge. They weren't locals of this area, which is what Lleu attributed his success to in recruiting them. For if they knew the reputed nature of their quest's destination they would probably not have agreed to come. The pursuit of riches was all they were aware of.

Lleu viewed their surroundings. They stood in an open square. A light drizzle of rain had turned the ground to mud. A Dannan church stood silently to their right; its stone walls were now old and worn. To their left was a squat blacksmith shop. Firelight danced within, and the ring of the blacksmith's hammer echoed off the small, humble, row of homes that dotted either side of a muddy path in front of them. Beside the blacksmith shop was a stable, where a boy could be seen inside, huddling down against a stall-door trying to stay warm.

Lleu pulled his cloak closer about his body and led his horse in the direction of the stable. Behind him Povl and Walder followed.

"Finally we can get out of this rain," Walder grumbled.

Lleu glanced over his shoulder and smiled to see Walder characteristically waddle-walking behind them.

Povl commented, "Not a very lively place is it..."

Walder nodded and said in a low tone, "I don't think they get visitors here very often."

Lleu walked into the stables and nodded to the boy who was now rising to his feet. "Is there room for our horses here?"

The boy brushed straw off his trousers. He looked to be around 14 years old. He wore a fur cap on his head that was pulled down over his ears. He had to push it up a bit in order to get it away from his eyes. "Yes, there's room. And I'll tend to 'em for a silver piece."

Lleu reached into his coin purse and retrieved a coin. As he handed it to the boy he asked, "You wouldn't happen to know a man by the name of Garst, would you?"

"Garst? Of course I know 'im...unfortunately. If only Pranow was bigger. Then maybe he could be avoided."

"Why do you say that?"

"Bad luck, that one." The boy stuffed the coin into a pocket inside his coat.

Povl raised an eyebrow. "Made himself some enemies, has he?"

"Nah... He's the quiet type. Keeps to himself mostly, and never really bothers anybody."

"Then why is he bad luck?" Walder asked.

"He's cursed."

Povl exclaimed, "Cursed?" He spit on the ground and stomped where it landed.

Lleu shook his head in aggravation. "Oh stop your superstitious foolery." He looked back at the boy. "Can you just tell us where we can find him?"

"And where can we find some food and a bed?" Walder added.

The stable boy pointed the direction of the row of houses outside. "Next house down, across the road, is Marny's place. She has extra rooms that she lets people stay in, as long as they aren't Demrians."

"Sounds like a good woman," commented Walder.

Lleu shook his head again.

The boy continued, "As for Garst, he's got a small place on the other side of town, past the graveyard. You can't miss it. It's the only one out there."

"Thankyou." Lleu handed the boy another silver coin, and then pulled up the hood of his cloak before going back out into the cold drizzle.

---

Lleu rode along the muddy road alone, his pace slow. Behind him was Pranow. Ahead of him was the graveyard, situated on a short hill, with the edge of a dark forest just beyond. And all around him mist was rising up from the ground. It had stopped raining, and now the evening was quiet and still.

Lleu pulled gently on the reigns and his mare stopped. The setting made him feel leery, and the proximity of the giant Hon-abrel Mountains ahead only added to his unease.

Gathering his wits again he nudged his horse onward. "Let's go, girl."

The shack at the end of the road was barely fit to live in. It was situated right into the forest without any clearing around its perimeter. Various furs hung from its walls, and animal bones littered the ground in front. As Lleu approached, some sort of furry creature rose to its feet at the entrance of the shack and stared at him intensely.

It was some sort of large cat, as best as he could tell. He had seen mountain cats that were the size of dogs, but this one before him stood almost three and a half feet tall at its muscled shoulder blades. It was long, too, but Lleu couldn't tell just how long from his current position.

A low growl began rumbling from the large cat's throat. Lleu immediately pulled on the reigns, afraid to go any further. It was then that a man stepped through the doorway to place a calm hand on the cat. The growl ceased, but the intense stare did not.

"Who are you?" the man asked. He was tall and broad shouldered. His hair was dark, shaggy, and unkempt, and his jaw was covered with coarse stubble. He wore animal hide trousers and fur-lined, muddy boots. His tunic was also made from sewn together hides. He wore no coat, despite the chill in the air, and the sleeves of his tunic were rolled up as though he had been working at something. "Do you not speak?" the man asked after a brief silence.

Lleu stammered, "I- I am sorry. Forgive me- My name is Lleu Danson, and I am looking for Garst."

"I am Garst," replied the man.

(TO BE CONTINUED...)