“Commander Braxten will, as he should.” Kent hung his head, looking at the old planks on the floor. “I am supposed to keep track of all medical equipment.”
“Then, I will leave his means of escape in question. It is not important.” Nathaniel scanned the rafters above. The barn had no back door, and every floor plank was in place. A single white dove sat by a cranked window. Even in prime shape, that climb would be difficult.
Nathaniel approached the older minstrel. The candlelight reflected a staff with notes on the parchment. What manner of song did he read? Tragic or sweet? Hopeful or sad?
“My apologies for interrupting, sir.” Nathaniel bowed. “I regret I did not introduce myself earlier. I’m Lieutenant Nathaniel Blueborough.”
The old man glanced above the parchment. “You may call me Echo.”
“Echo.” An honorable name for a minstrel. Nathaniel wished he could learn more about him and his connection to Valoria. But, they had more urgent matters to speak of. “A prisoner has gone missing. He lay back there in the bed in the far right corner. Have you noticed anything unusual?”
Echo rolled the parchment and brought the candle forward. Admiration shone in his eyes. “I remember you now. You saved my life earlier on the battlefield.”
A flash of memory lighted Nathaniel’s mind. Raiders swarmed around him, and he cut through the front line, pushing them back. A voice sang in his head, promising him honor. “One man outnumbered deserves a second chance.” He spoke the words, but they were not his own.
“Eloquently spoken for a soldier.” Echo raised his brow, peering deeper into his soul.
Nathaniel shook his head. “I cannot take credit for my actions. A force pulled me in your direction.”
“Indeed.” Echo looked away in frustration when Nathaniel had expected surprise. “A force I cannot seem to control however much I try.”
The old man gestured toward the empty bed. “The boy was here when the sun set. I woke up a few hours later to the medic’s shouts that he’d disappeared.”
“Then he couldn’t have gone through the front gate.” Nathaniel massaged his chin in thought. “He must be in the city.” He checked over his shoulder. “The boy couldn’t have found many places to hide. Most inns, taverns, and shops are locked after sunset. Patrols march the cobblestone. My guards should have spotted him.”
“What of the back gate?” Echo spoke as if he tempted fate.
Nathaniel gave him a chastising stare, as if silencing a child asking to be told a frightful bedtime story. The minstrels hadn’t been in Ebonvale for decades, but they should know better. “Contrary to rumor, the back gate hasn’t been opened since King Artemis Rubystone’s army returned from their triumph at Sill. In the spring, it floods from the mountain pass. The poor lad would have to slosh through the muck of the moors, not to mention the stories of the voices calling from the mountains, and all of those awful bones of the lost travelers and castle runaways...” He closed his eyes, blocking the thoughts from his mind.
Echo lay back, propping his head on the pillow. “Tradition, superstition, and a little bit of muck may not supersede one’s desire to be free.”
“The gate will be the last place I check.” Nathaniel gave the man a steady glance. “Thank you for your help.”
“I’ll do anything to ensure our kingdoms’ unity. These are trying times.”
“Indeed. With half the countryside a charred ruin and raiders running amok. At least the wyverns haven’t returned. Many thanks to your kind.”
Echo raised his finger. “It was the unity of both kingdoms that defeated them.”
Nathaniel nodded and turned toward the door. Another reason to support Brax’s union with Valoria. “I will never forget.”
Chapter 5
Flight
Nathaniel rounded the corner of the apothecary’s shop with a lantern in his hand. The silver rays of the quarter moon barely penetrated the shadows. He knelt down and raised the lantern above the cobblestone. A single drop of blood speckled the amber rock. He touched it with his finger. The blood was cold, but not entirely dry.
Seems the boy had some acting skills. He wasn’t as near to death as he’d led Nathaniel to believe.
Nathaniel checked the area and found another drop on a storage crate in the alley out back. The bloodied path continued through the empty gin kegs behind the Wild Boar Tavern and stopped at the back door. Unlike most of the village, this tavern stayed open through the dark hours of the night.
A perfect place to hide.
Nathaniel came around the front, not wanting to raise suspicions. Two men stood by the door, chewing black root. They were farmers from the countryside, probably stopping by to drop off their goods and have a drink before the journey back tomorrow. They straightened as he approached, and he waved them back. “At ease.”
“A strange place for a lieutenant on duty.” The younger of the two men called after him with a teasing tone.
Nathaniel glanced over his shoulder. “We are all on duty every heartbeat of our lives.”
The inside of the tavern glowed with golden light from three giant hanging lanterns and a roaring fire in the back. Several men sat at the bar, and most of the tables were taken. Loud conversations provided a din of cheers and shouts.
Barmaids pushed through the crowd with trays of ale, bowls of some sort of thick, brown stew and loaves of bread. No one looked any younger than twenty summers, and nowhere did he see a head of red hair.
Timber sat in the corner by the fire, spooning the thick stew in his mouth and looking off into the distance as if reliving an epic battle from years past. Nathaniel edged his way across the room and sat in the empty chair across from him.
“Seen anything out of the ordinary tonight?”
Timber raised his gray brow in surprise. “I cannot remember the last time I saw you in a tavern, never mind the Wild Boar.”
Nathaniel leaned forward and broke off the end of the loaf on the table. “Necessity dictates my actions.”
“Well, if you’ve come to speak to an old man like me, you are truly desperate.” He raised his mug and drained the last sip. “No one seeks my council these days.”
“Am I no one?” Nathaniel smiled. If King Rubystone had survived the battle at Sill, he’d have sought Timber’s council until his dying day. Bronford Thoridian was too proud to ask, and Brax followed in his father’s footsteps. Perhaps a good old chase would console Timber. Nathaniel pulled his chair closer and lowered his voice. “I need your help. A certain young raider has gone missing, and the trail leads here.”
Timber’s gaze changed from dreamy to alert as he scanned the room. “You don’t say?”
Nathaniel nodded. A barmaid asked him if he wanted anything and he waved her away.
“You should order a drink to keep up appearances, in the least, sir.”
“I do not intend to be here long.”
“That table over there has been here for quite a while.” Timber pointed to a rowdy bunch of young men by the bar. “And that man over there has a friend who hasn’t moved all night. He shields his face with his arm.” Like any great warrior, Timber had been keenly aware of his surroundings and who was in them even though he didn’t show it.
Nathaniel shook his head. “Too burly.” A hooded figure sitting alone in the far corner caught his eye.