CHAPTER TWOTHE CROSSROADS

  The burial wasn’t as beautiful as he would’ve liked, especially for a cleric, and one who was of The Brethren at that. But it wasn’t that bad either, thought Garrick, after he’d finally tossed the st bit of dirt over the old man and his staff.

  “I could not have done it better without your help, my friend,” said Garrick, as he knelt down and started to brush the dirt off of Onyx’s paws.

  The dirt from the hole the mystic wolf had dug had then been thrown over Braelind, along with some tree branches and leaves that Garrick had grabbed from their surroundings. Then the mercenary sighed and looked up at the sun high up in the sky.

  The old cleric deserved better, but The Holy City was only a few days away from The Crossroads, and with his current resting pce being off the main road, chances were good that he wouldn’t be disturbed before someone from the order could get to him.

  Garrick pulled out the Brethren’s ring and looked at it as he started to pet Onyx, who was sitting next to him, sniffing the air. Then he stood up and the mystic wolf started to trot toward the road.

  With that hand now free, the mercenary pulled out a ring of his own from underneath his tunic. It was simple looking and held by a leather cord that sat around his neck. Garrick ran his fingers over his ring and then looked down at Braelind’s.

  “I know you said your ring would give me an audience with the High Priest, but even more so, I know there must be someone who will be gd to have this in your memory,” whispered Garrick. Then he kissed the ring on the leather cord twice, put it back under his tunic, and pced Braelind’s ring into his pack.

  After brushing his dirt-stained hands over his tunic, the mercenary bowed politely over the grave and then followed his companion toward the road.

  ***

  After a long trek with his mind contempting again and again the interesting interaction with Braelind, Garrick could tell that they were getting close to The Crossroads. As they walked, they came into contact with more and more individuals on the road. Men and women of all ages, along with dwarves and elves, continued to pass them by. Whether walking alone or in groups, in carts pulled by ponies, or on horseback, whatever the case, the farther Garrick and Onyx walked, the more crowded it became.

  Soldiers walked toward Aubrelon aside knights on horseback. Wizards, both masters and apprentices, discussed new spells and old ones, as they were starting out on a quest, or heading back to The Wizard Citadel, located just a little farther off from the soldiers’ destination.

  Though The Wizard Citadel was located on a small isnd off the shores of King Brock’s capital, it was actually built, formed and governed by elves, dwarves and humans combined. That being so, it was deemed totally autonomous by all three kingdoms.

  The sounds and commotion around Garrick became louder, jolting him from thought. Then the mercenary looked over his shoulder.

  There were now about the same amount of travelers going to The Crossroads as leaving it. He had been so lost in thought again that he hadn’t noticed that he and Onyx had already passed many of the smaller paths that connected to the road they were on. They were now walking around a hill, and it was a hill the mercenary knew well.

  As the travelers rounded the st part of the hill, Garrick and the others behind him could see one of the four arches that adorned each of the four entrances to The Crossroads. After walking farther, the mercenary could see the canopies that covered the hundreds of merchant stalls that filled the marketpce. In moments he would see the various guilds, and after that the temple of Elion a little farther off.

  Garrick reached down and ruffled the fur on Onyx’s head as they walked through the arch.

  “Stay close to me. I will not lose you in this crowd. I know you can fend for yourself, but there are some here that would love to take you and...” Garrick stopped as Onyx looked up at him, mouth open as if smiling. The mystic wolf usually looked menacing with all his sharp teeth on dispy, but now he looked happy, being back in the one pce that felt like home.

  And in many ways, with the biggest mercenary guild being at The Crossroads, it was home.

  Onyx continued looking up at Garrick with beautiful dark eyes and then licked his hand. Having raised the mystic wolf from a pup, Garrick and Onyx had bonded. It was rare to bond with a mystic wolf, but Garrick had. With just a look or a word, the mercenary and the mystic wolf could sometimes know what each other were thinking or feeling.

  “Okay, okay,” replied Garrick. “You are right. I can trust you...”

  The mercenary stood up again and took in the view and sounds around him that never seemed to get old. Then he looked down at Onyx who was doing the same.

  “Come on. I am almost out of arrows and it has been a while since my sword has been looked at. If we are quick about it, I am pretty sure we can make it to The Holy City in the next few days, but I would feel better if we bought more water and food before leaving tomorrow.”

  “Just getting here and I am leaving,” said a voice in front of Garrick.

  The mercenary blocked the sun from his eyes to get a better look. Stepping away from a merchant table and walking toward them was a middle-aged man with a big beard. As he walked, he was carefully pcing a quiver of arrows over his deerskin tunic.

  “Gustine! How goes the hunting!?” excimed Garrick happily, sticking out his hand.

  After shaking Garrick's hand, the hunter put his other hand out for Onyx to smell, then patted the rge bck wolf on his side.

  “Not bad, Garrick. It would be better if you came along like the old days. Of course, this big boy here is better than us both at hunting and tracking,” replied Gustine, looking down at Onyx, who was watching a wizard apprentice casting illusion spells for a small audience.

  “I assume you have not been to the mercenary guild yet?” asked the hunter, his smile fading away to a more serious look.

  “You are correct. We just got here. Walked through the eastern arch only moments ago,” answered Garrick. “What is going on?”

  “Avenal the Relentless was here te st night,” announced Gustine in a low voice.

  As with Gustine, Garrick’s smile faded. “What was he doing here?”

  “Roughed up some mercenaries outside of the guild. Rumor is he took one with him. Not sure who,” replied Gustine, quietly. “You know how it is with that half-elf bounty hunter. The ones left behind are not talking.”

  “Thanks Gustine,” said Garrick, calmly rubbing his bearded chin, though his mind was racing. Then after a moment he continued. “I have something bigger to deal with right now, but I will look into it tomorrow morning, or I will just do it when I return from this short trip I have been asked to make.”

  “When you get back we will have to catch up over some ale,” replied Gustine. Then the hunter looked up at the arch behind Garrick and stuck out his hand. “Be safe on your journey.”

  “Happy hunting, my friend,” added Garrick, after shaking Gustine’s hand. Then he pointed at him with a smile. “And I will be buying that time.”

  “The next time you get to buy the ale, it will be after a hunting trip with me. It has been too long,” ughed Gustine, poking the mercenary in the chest.

  After bidding farewell to the only hunter that could possibly match his uncle Levain, Garrick and Onyx made their way about the marketpce, picking up all they would need for the journey to The Holy City and back. At one stall, run by an elven family, Garrick bought more arrows to fill his quiver again.

  Down a ways, near the temple of Elion, they purchased venison jerky and some salted pork made from wild boar. Seeing Onyx sitting outside the store’s door, the old man behind the counter threw in a few pieces of bacon for the mystic wolf, which he swallowed whole.

  Then the mercenary picked up some raisins and wild berries from a young woman sitting on a bnket near the bcksmith he and Onyx were on their way to see.

  After a short walk the duo came to their destination. Garrick opened the door to the bcksmith’s shop and looked over at a well-muscled dwarf sitting at an anvil, holding a hammer and gazing over a piece of metal that he had just pulled from the fire. Feeling the breeze come in from the open door, the dwarf wiped sweat from his face and looked up.

  “Greetings Dunnigan,” said Garrick as he pulled out his sword.

  “About to go out on another job, Garrick?” replied the middle-aged dwarf.

  “You could say that,” ughed the mercenary. “I was hoping you had time to look at my sword. I got into a scrape with some bandits. One of the men was as big as a troll and just as strong. He hacked at me with his sword like it was an axe. It seems to be okay...”

  “But your weapons are your livelihood,” finished Dunnigan, taking the bde from Garrick. After looking it over and testing it, the dwarf handed it back. “The sword is fine, mercenary.”

  Garrick started to pull some coins out, but Dunnigan stopped him. “No charge. You are a regur, Garrick. You know that,” began the bcksmith. “Besides, with the business I just did this week, it would be fine even if you were not. I wish the extra business was under different circumstances, of course.”

  “I just got into town. What happened?” asked Garrick, as Onyx trotted over to the bcksmith’s weapons on dispy.

  “The dragon Firebaugh has been seen near Parnigal. King Brock has ordered some of the soldiers out of The Crossroads to the old capital just in case,” answered Dunnigan. “I and the other bcksmiths in town took care of them before they left. King Brock even sent two of his Valor Masters. Sevilno and Finnell, I think.”

  “That would make sense,” replied Garrick, as he slid his sword back into its scabbard. “Sevilno is the spear master and Finnell is as good as an elf with a bow. To say he is a master is an understatement.”

  “Keep your ears open, mercenary. With some of the soldiers being moved to Parnigal, your services may be needed soon. As for me, after I finish up here, I think I will retire for the night,” stated Dunnigan. Garrick watched as the dwarf stretched his aching muscles and yawned, exhausted. “Maybe the next few nights.”

  Garrick looked over at Onyx, ying sleepily below the weapons for sale, and then out the window at the sun, starting to peak over the hills just outside the city.

  “Yes dwarf, I agree,” replied Garrick. “It has been a long day. I think it is time I make my way to an inn.” Then he patted his pack and whispered,

  “And to the two people who know more about the legend of the Scepter Sword than anyone I know.”