It was quiet on the bed of the wagon, while Aldric finished his porridge. Not the best meal he had ever had, but it was savoury and filling. He was happy not to wear that stinking sack again, even though the view was not much better without it. Martin and Aldric were sitting in a metal cage bolted to the top of a loading wagon. The bars were almost completely covered with a couple of different colored canvases, giving the duo a very limited view of the surroundings. Only a couple of slots of light came through some openings between the fabrics.

  Aldric could see the two towering orcs sitting shoulder to shoulder on the limited space on the front of the wagon. On their own wagon, behind them, a pair of half-fiends were loudly discussing who between them had the most attention grabbing horns. On the sides, he could only see a bit of the countryside as they passed by it. A bit of open fields, a bit of forest. Once in a while a rider would ride past at high speed, carrying different types of parchments back and forth.

  Martin was slowly eating the last of his meal, savouring every bite. Aldric felt a bit embarrassed about how quickly he had wolfed down his portion. Finally finished, Martin turned to Aldric.

  “What is on your mind, Aldric?” He asked, smiling all the while. “You have been stealing glances at me.”

  “How did you know? What did you mean by it being interesting, that we met like this?” Aldric was falling over his own words, in a hurry to get all of his questions out.

  “Now, there my boy.” Martin laughed, Aldric was starting to dislike this laugh, even if it was deep and authentic. He couldn’t understand how anyone could act so care free, when tied up and locked in a cage by a group of bandits. But the laugh still warmed something inside him.

  “When you ask me how I knew. I am assuming you meant how did I know you are of feyblood?” Martin inquired, and Aldric nodded slowly. “First thing would be your eyes. Beautiful purple blue, deep and fascinating. But since you do not have the tell tell sign of an elf - the pointed ear - I would have to say, your magic as the second.”

  Aldric sat up a bit straighter, and with a confused expression on his face, looked at the older man. “How?”

  “How can I tell that you have feyblood from your magic?” Martin guessed and Aldric again nodded. “You are new to wielding magic and it shows. As a feyblood your magic is connected to your emotions.”

  Aldric’s eyes whitened. “But how can you…”

  “But how can I tell you have magic?” Martin interrupted. “It is very simple, my dear Aldric. I have magic too, while not the same type, they are similar.”

  Martin made a series of gestures with one hand and spoke in a soft whisper that sounded like the wind blowing through dry leaves on a treebranch in Low Fall. All of sudden a small gust of wind pushed the cloth covering the cage outwards. Aldric lit up, staring at the older man, who in turn was looking back at him.

  “And why it was interesting that we should meet like this?” Martin’s charming smile was back, completely skipping over the whole spellcasting. “Allow me to reply by asking you a question, my young friend. Why were you sneaking around a bandit camp in the middle of the night?”

  Aldric’s heart stopped for a brief moment, the distinct feeling of having been caught doing something you shouldn’t, rose up in him. Like when Stefan had taken a couple of the black smith’s ciders and they drank them together behind the barn and Aldric’s father had caught them in the act.

  “I…” Aldric started, unsure of how to start this story. “I was looking for my sister. She was stolen from our home last night by Ashborn and some guy called White Strip. I tried to stop them, but they were too strong.”

  “You tried to fight an infamous Pirate Lord and the Roaming Bandit king?” Martin replied, genuinely taken by surprise.

  “Brave and fool-hearted? Interesting.” It came out as a whisper to no one in particular. Martin seemed to realize he had spoken out loud. “My apologies for interrupting, please continue.”

  “Yes, they got away with my sister. So, I followed the bandits’ trail and found their camp.” Aldric continued, after a moment of thought. “I found a big tent that looked out of place between the other tents, guarded by those Orcs outside. Inside I found a cage that might have held my sister. But it was a small silver dragon.”

  “You managed to sneak past two guards?” Martin’s eyes were wide and his usually charming smile had turned into a mischief grin.

  “Yes… Well, I snuck around behind the tent and cut it open with my father’s shortsword.” Aldric replied, feeling a bit proud of what he actually accomplished.

  “And you did all of this to save your sister, without any help?” Martin pressed, he looked more serious. Something lit up deep in his pale eyes. Aldric was a bit unsure, but started to nod slowly.

  “Aldric! That was very irresponsible of you.” Martin’s tone had changed from friendly to stern. “Why did your father not help you?”

  “He.. he was stabbed in the stomach.” Aldric replied, feeling guilty for leaving his father in that state. “But there were many people in the village, they would help him.”

  “I will pray for his safety later.” Martin said in a somber tone. “And once we are free, we will let him know you are in good health. He deserves…”

  “No, I can’t go back! I need to find my sister!” Aldric interrupted.

  “Aldric, I understand your sister is important to you.” Martin replied in a much gentler tone. “And that is why I will help you find her.”

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  “Besides, I have a bone to pick with Lord White Strip.” Martin’s tone turned dark and full of hate.

  Aldric was taken by surprise in this switch of emotions, but decided to focus on the positive. “Do you really want to help me?”

  “Of course, Aldric. What could be a nobler course?” Martin’s charming smile and cheerful tone was back. “But first, you need to learn how to defend yourself and how to use your magic.”

  The wagon came to a halt, both Martin and Aldric turned to look out the side of the wagon. One of the orcs stepped off the wagon and walked up along the caravan. Giving Aldric a view of all the different sorts of wagons, carts and carriages in the caravan. The same did one of the half-fiends in the wagon behind. As he passed their case, he spit some green liquid at Martin. It hit the canvas next to his head. The cloth started to sizzle and burn immediately. Leaving a dark green smoke and a terrible smell of something Aldric wasn’t familiar with, the smell was sour and sharp.

  “Someone is still mad about the beating I gave them.” Martin noticed with a bit of amusement in his voice.

  “How did you do that?” Aldric asked.

  “Hm? Oh, when I woke up after being caught I fought back as one does.” Martin amused, turning back to look at Aldric. “This Half-fiend here was unfortunate to be on the receiving end.”

  “No, I understand that part.” Aldric replied with a shake of his head. “I mean how do you know how to fight?”

  “Oh my boy, for many years, I trained in the beautiful art of swordplay, and in my later years I thaught the art to many a young noble and knight.” Martin smiled, a lot of pride in his voice. “Mind you, this was long before I learned I had a minor magical ability.”

  “Can you teach me?” Aldric asked, brimming with enthusiasm. “Swordplay and how to use magic, I mean.”

  “Swordplay, I can certainly teach you and I will be happy to.” Martin remarked with a knowing smile, as if he knew this was where the conversation would end up. “But Aldric, when it comes to magic, I am but a novice.”

  “Oh, so you can’t help me with magic?” Aldric asked, feeling the disappointment as a cold clammy day in the rain.

  “I did not say I could not help. I know a great many magic wielders. One of them is on his way to help us as we speak.” Martin noticed while still grinning. “We only have to wait a little longer, my dear boy.”

  “Who is he? What kind of magic does he use?” Aldric rapidly fired the questions, consumed by excitement and curiosity.

  “Now now, it is not polite to tell another gentleman’s story for him.” Martin smiled, the kindness in his eye shone brightly. When Aldric started to hang his head, Martin added. “But I can tell you His name is Hector and he is a Spellblade.”

  “Really?” Aldric eyes lit up again. “What is a Spellblade?”

  Martin was about to reply, when the orc returned, yelling something to the orc left behind, who in turn moved out of his seat and walked with heavy steps to the cage’s door and unlocked the door.

  “You two! Get out!” the deep rusted voice came from the orc.

  “My dear sir, I would love to, but as you can see my feet are literally tied.” Martin replied, in his charming tone and laughing a bit to himself. “Would you be a dear and help with these?”

  The orc looked at him with a murderous look, but did what was asked. Only after he had secured both Martin and Aldric’s hands again. They were led up past the caravan, Aldric saw a mix of races: orcs, goblins, half-fiends and many more that Aldric couldn’t possibly ask which race they were, going about setting up camp outside a small roadhouse. The roadhouse was an old run down place, it had a small barn added and a courtyard now brimming with people sitting up tents and starting campfires.

  Aldric and Martin were dragged inside to the common room, filled with 3 long tables, benches, a couple of smaller tables and a blood splattered bar. The room smelled of old food, ale and urine. In the corner next to the bar laid an older man with a giant belly and two younger boys, all tied up, with sacks over their heads. Aldric felt a stab of empathy for them.

  At one of the tables, sat Ashborn eating, with Clyde standing beside him. The two taller and broader men were having a whispered conversation. Aldric could feel the dread building inside him, like a cold winter day turning for the worse with a shower of frozen rain falling. Aldric saw Clyde’s eyes widened, when he noticed them being pulled in the door.

  The Orcs dragged Aldric and Martin over to the table and placed them on a chair each. Now sitting face to face with one of the men who took his sister, Aldric could feel a mixture of dread and anger boiling inside him, like a winter storm over a calm sea turning into a violent storm of high crushing waves and icy water, swallowing everything that dared to come near it. Ashborn looked up at his two dinner guests and smiled, his smile was hungry and dangerous.

  “Ah, there you are!” Ashborn smiled. “No, no, no need for formalities.”

  Both Aldric and Martin didn’t move as much as a muscle. They were both staring at the empty green eyes of the beast of a man in front of them.

  “The reason why I summoned the both of you is simple.” He continued, taking a huge bite of a chicken thigh, completely undercooked. He did not seem to mind, nor notice. “Kid, I was going to keep you as a pet, when I first saw you. But then you ran like a coward!”

  Ashborn stared deep into Aldric’s eyes. The empty, yet hungry look penetrated straight through him. Aldric did his best to hold his eyes, but he had to look away. The fear built in him, like seeing a dangerous storm coming towards you, faster than you can get away.

  “See, nothing but a coward.” Ashborn spat, “But a healthy boy like you will fetch a nice price from one of the slavers from the ‘free’ cities on the coast.”

  “And you old man. The legendary Martin Eurus, Lord Baron of Kingsport, dragonslayer!” Ashborn spoke as an announcer for a fight ring. “You and I are going to have a fight tomorrow. I want to see if the legend holds up.”

  Aldric froze for a moment. Legendary?

  “That is all well and good. But I do not suppose you will consider letting the boy go?” Martin replied in a playful, almost bored tone, as if a fight with this giant of a man wouldn’t fill one with dread. “If not, I will have to take you down finally. I will look forward to it.”

  “HA! See that, boy! That’s guts right there!” Ashborn laughed, while hammering his fist into the wooden table, splitted and shook the table, when a corner broke off. “I look forward to having your heart for dinner tomorrow.” his smile had turned into a crazed hungry looking grin, showing all of his teeth.

  “Clyde, put them in the corner, and give them a proper meal.” Ashborn finished the conversation. “I need them full, strong, and ready for tomorrow. It is going to be a great day!”

  Aldric and Martin were both dragged to the corner where the old man and the two children laid, and sat against the wall. Clyde followed the two orcs outside and came back in shortly, with two bowls of soup and placed them in each of the two’s hands. Clyde leaned towards Aldric.

  “Put your legs together, and be quiet.” he whispered to Aldric in a trembling voice. “Wait for nightfall and use this to escape.”

  Aldric felt something heavy land on his lap. He chanced a look down and saw a short dagger.

  “I might not have been able to save your daughter, so your son will have to do.” Clyde whispered to himself as he got up and went outside. Once outside, he could be heard shouting:

  “Alright, your sorry excuses for people! The feast is ready! Let’s eat and drink!”