Wanderer's Song by P. E. Padilla

Author:P. E. Padilla [Padilla, P. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crimson Cat Publishing
Published: 2017-10-29T23:00:00+00:00

31

Aeden felt Fahtin rouse beside him and he sighed. Her movement had taken the warmth of her body away from his. When she jerked upright, he knew something was not right and he swept his cloak off in one motion, drawing the swords lying next to him. He sprang to his feet, weapons at the ready, searching for what had caused her to react that way.

A man sat next to the fire, long knife in his hand. Was he picking his nails with it?

The man did not move, so Aeden took the opportunity to scan the darkened clearing. He didn’t see anything else amiss. Aeden focused on the intruder. He was a large man, bear-like in shape. His head was bald as an egg, and he had a neatly trimmed moustache and beard that covered only a circle around his mouth and the bottom of his rounded chin. The hair was white, and the lines etched in his face showed that he was not a young man, but the way he sat told Aeden he was not weak or infirm. And the way he held that knife indicated that he was very familiar with the weapon, like it was a part of him.

His clothes were muted greens and browns, huntsman’s garb, thick pants, a rough shirt, and a tough leather vest over the top of it. The thing that really caught Aeden’s attention, though, was the man’s eyes. They were completely white, even brighter than his beard and moustache. He was obviously blind, the way those white orbs didn’t focus on anything. He was aware of the man standing in front of him with two swords drawn, though.

“Calm yourself, Aeden,” the man said, sheathing the long knife in an elegant motion. “I’m not here as an enemy.” He raised his hands up as his face turned toward the Tannoch warrior.

At Aeden’s movement and the man’s voice, Raki whirled toward the other three, throwing knives in his hand. Aeden shook his head at the boy so he wouldn’t release them. It had not escalated to that point yet.

“Who are you?” Aeden said, noting Fahtin taking a breath beside him. “How do you know my name?”

“I know your name,” the man said calmly, “because I have heard your friends use it. Your friends Fahtin,”—he nodded toward her—“and Raki.” He jerked his head backward toward the boy. “As for who I am, my name is Tere Chizzit.”

“And why are you here, Tere Chizzit?” Aeden asked. “How did you get into camp without any of us seeing or hearing you?” He shot a look at Raki, and the youngest member of their party seemed to get the implication.

“I didn’t fall asleep,” Raki said. “I was right here, scanning the forest. I don’t know how he got past me.”

“You have a lot of questions,” Tere Chizzit said. “Let me just say that when I came upon your trail almost a week ago, you interested me. I rarely see anyone travel in the Grundenwald, and for good reason.

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