Forbidden Quest, 2nd Edition Page 5

  Chapter Three

  Several small-dilapidated cottages lined the narrow dirt road that ran through the center of the tiny village. Each shack consisted of just enough wood and straw to keep the light rain from penetrating the exterior. Across from the little homes stood a building, which served as the local inn. The two-story wooden structure was in severe disrepair although several villagers in similar dress as Jack came and went as they watched.

  “Maybe Hopper should stay out of sight,” Jack suggested. “He might draw unwanted attention.”

  “What about Nicole?” Sarah was quick to respond. “I don’t see any elves.”

  “If we spend all our time arguing about what to do we’ll never get anything done. I’m going inside,” Nicole pulled a string of leather from the fringe that hung at the base of her vest, and tied back her long hair. Without a glance at the others, she strode forward, leaving them all behind.

  “Hopper, stay here with Sarah.” Jack jumped over a fallen log and dashed after Nicole.

  The remnant of a sign hung above the entrance to the building. The crudely scratched declaration of Inn hinted at the building’s purpose.

  “Well, I don’t see any ‘condemned’ notices, so I guess it’s safe to enter.” Jack wondered what kept the Inn from crushing the small stable next door it appeared to be leaning on it for support. As they neared, Jack realized the stables were actually in worse repair than the Inn itself. Nicole headed straight for the small stables. Moving to the entrance, she stood silently, studying a filthy young boy dressed in rags and mud. The boy, not more than twelve, ignored them and continued to scrape the muck from the hoof of a white mare.

  Jack called to the boy as he came up beside Nicole. “Are you in charge here?”

  “Yep.” The boy answered without as much as a glance in their direction.

  “We’re here to... We are supposed to...” Jack stumbled, looking for the right words.

  “You’ve got something for us, boy,” Nicole said. She extended her hand toward the child and motioned her fingers for him to give whatever it was over to her. “We’re in a hurry, so let’s have it.”

  “Have what?” The boy dropped the horse’s leg and straightened up to address Nicole.

  “You’ve got our supplies and money boy. Hand them over and be quick about it,” Nicole answered. Her eyes began sparkling in the dim light of the stables. The boy stood frozen, his eyes wide, mouth agape at the sight of Nicole’s eyes.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” Jack added, stepping in front of Nicole. “We just want what we’ve got coming.” Jack cringed at those words. He suddenly envisioned a gang of cutthroats jumping out of the rafters to give it to them. He wasn’t sure what would set things in motion in this pretend world.

  “A tall, ancient man, dropped off some stuff a while back.” The boy glanced at Jack, “If you can tell me what the two looked like that were with him, you can have it.”

  “How about a tiny dark-eyed man and a delicious blonde nymph,” Jack said with a wink at Nicole.

  The boy’s eyes narrowed centering back on Nicole. “Elves don’t usually work for humans.”

  “That’s none of your concern boy.” Nicole could barely control her glee that Jack was successfully managing the uncooperative child. “Now get those supplies.”

  “And a map,” Jack added. He moved toward the boy then stopped suddenly when the overwhelming stench of the stables reached him.

  “There are horses in the back corral; you should head out there and get what ya need. I’ll get your supplies from the Inn Keeper. Where are the others? They dead already?”

  “They’re around,” Jack answered. Taking a deep breath through his mouth, he followed Nicole to the far end of the stables calling after her, “How did you know this was the right place?”

  “It’s all part of the game. It can’t be too difficult right at the start, or we would get discouraged. Besides, how are we going to defend ourselves if we don’t have any weapons or get anywhere without horses?”

  “Like in a video game. The first thing you do is load up on weapons.” Jack shoved open the stable door and rushed outside to take a deep breath of fresh air. The back corral was a good-sized pasture containing half a dozen horses. The remains of a wooden fence surrounded the small corral. It was just tall and sturdy enough to discourage the horses from bolting.

  “Hopper’s going to need a large stallion, and we should find something mild mannered for Sarah,” Jack dictated. He opened the rickety gate, being careful not to spook the horses, and headed into the corral. “Do you know how to ride?”

  “Personally no, but my character should,” Nicole answered. “I’m sure it will come to me.” While Jack stood trying to get used to Nicole’s newly acquired cheerful disposition, she pushed past him and cooed to a dappled gray stallion. The horse gave a whinny and trotted over to her. Nicole took hold of its mane, leaped onto its bare back and galloped off across the field.

  “The inherent trait stuff at work again,” Jack said to himself. The same horrible stench from the stables crawled back up his nostrils causing him to hold his gag reflex at bay. Jack turned around to find the boy staring past him at Nicole’s retreating form.

  “I got yer stuff.” His eyes locked on the beautiful, exotic elf seated regally on the horse. “You hafta find the falls. There’s a cave under it that’s got what ya need. After that, ya head for the valley on the other side of the mountain.”

  “And then?” Jack backed away, searching for breathable air.

  “Not for me ta say.” The boy never took his eyes from Nicole. He whispered, looking at Jack out of the corner of his eyes, “She’s a woodland, you know.” Without another word, the boy tossed Jack a small assortment of pouches then darted quickly inside the stables. Glancing briefly at Nicole, who was galloping across the pasture, Jack turned and followed.

  “Wait!” He reluctantly entered the stables after the boy, “Is this it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where are our weapons?”

  “Inn Keeper’s got ‘em. Says ya got to pay.”

  “I see.” Jack frowned, and opened one of the larger pouches. He dumped the contents into his hand and found a small pile of gold coins. Four of the bags contained over a dozen coins each, all gold. The remaining pouch held a small animal pelt with a map scrawled on the soft skin. Holding out half a dozen coins to the boy, he asked, “Will this be enough?”

  “Half a bag’s too much, but he’s gonna want more,” The boy stopped working and studied him. “Why ya askin’ me? Ain’t you bought weapons afore?”

  “I make my own.” Jack stood tall, holding his head held high and tried to look convincing. “Tell the elf I’ve gone to the Inn. And see if you can get her to saddle the horses.”

  “Those Woodlands is wild.” The boy looked at him shaking his head.

  “Just tell her I’m at the Inn,” Jack growled, heading for the front entrance.

  The interior of the Inn reminded Jack of Dr. Strong’s Clinic, dark, stuffy and something just did not smell right. Walking through the main room, Jack saw a scattering of tables made from long wooden planks propped up on what appeared to be tree stumps with smaller versions serving as benches. The tables still held the remains of the previous night. Dirty mugs, dishes and a couple of patrons snoring among the clutter.

  “Now this is my kind of place, earthy atmosphere and the smell of stale beer.” Jack headed for the bar. He threw his shoulders back and puffed out his chest in what he thought to be true barbarian style. He was ready for action. “Innkeeper, you have my weapons.” He announced in a dark, snarling whisper.

  “Ya ain’t gettin’ ‘em ‘till ya pay.” The barkeep placed both hands on the rotting gray wood of his makeshift bar and scowled at Jack. The man was incredibly filthy; his stench surpassed the stable boy’s tenfold. His clothes contained stains on top of stains, giving it an unnatural dark shade of brown. Jack stopped a few paces short of the bar not wanting to bathe in
the stench again. He took several gold coins from one of the bags and tossed them on the counter. “That should cover it,” he tried to match the innkeeper's scowl to stay in character.

  “Not unless you’re throwin’ in that sword, it don’t.” The old man leaned forward.

  “If I could get a look at the goods," Jack offered. “I might be able to sweeten the deal.”

  “In the storage closet.” The man smiled, revealing a mouthful of black rotted teeth. He motioned toward the door at the far end of the bar.

  Jack fought back the urge to cringe. A small door was located deeper in the heart of the tavern. The uncertainty of what might be waiting behind the door gripped his stomach like steel claws.