Lorik The Protector (Lorik Trilogy) (15 page)

They reached the village at midday and discovered a bustling town. They could see smoke rising from several structures and heard the familiar
ting
ting
of blacksmiths at work. Best of all, they could smell meat roasting and bread baking.

“How do you propose to get everything we need?” Stone asked.

“Not sure, but I’m hoping that these folks will listen to reason.”

“That’s not likely,” Stone said with a grin. “Most people don’t like to reason when it comes to parting with their goods.”

“If they don’t we’ll move on and they’ll be left completely unprotected.”

“What about Constable Yorn?”

“If they know the good constable, they’ll know they are in desperate need of help.”

Stone laughed. He liked spending time with Lorik. The teamster was a hard worker and had a strong sense of right and wrong, but he never pushed his feelings or ideas on anyone. He just always found a way to get what he needed. And he had accepted Stone without needing to know the younger man’s past. Stone had not always been a strictly moral person, but life on the run had given him the sense of freedom and prosperity he desired. All his life it seemed Stone had been scratching and clawing for the crumbs off someone else’s table. He had been rejected by most people who got close enough to really know him. Stone and Vera were the only exceptions. He had never felt like he belonged anywhere until he met them, and he knew he would die before he let anything happen to them.

They walked into the town past several small homes and well-built cottages. There was an inn at the center of the town and a small open market that was empty now. They saw a few people watching them. Lorik was an intimidating figure with his massive axe and broad shoulders. Stone’s low-slung twin knives were an oddity, too, but they labeled him as a dangerous man.

Lorik approached the first person he met in the street.

“I’m looking for someone in charge of this town,” he said politely.

The man looked at Lorik for a moment, then nodded his head toward the inn.

“Brotas is head of the town council. He runs the inn.”

“Thank you,” Lorik said.

The man nodded again and continued on his way.

“Well, at least maybe we can get a mug of ale while we talk to this Brotas,” Stone said. “I’m thirsty after that long walk.”

“Yeah, hopefully we’ll be riding back,” Lorik agreed.

“I thought you planned to get horses from the fort.”

“I will, but I’m also planning to get a wagon and a good team to deliver goods to the camp.”

Stone nodded, not sure how his partner planned to get everything he wanted from the town without money. He deeply regretted having lost his own stash of gold and silver during the storm at sea. It would have made everything so much simpler.

They entered the inn and took a seat at a long table. The windows were open to allow the cool autumn air inside. There were a few groups of townsfolk sitting and drinking in the common room. There was no fire burning, but the fireplace looked well used. A woman with glossy black hair appeared. She had two mugs of frothy ale that she sat gently on the table in front of Lorik and Stone.

“What can I do for you gentlemen?” she said.

Lorik thought she was comely, and she had the look of a woman who worked hard—the kind of woman other men flirted with, but that took no nonsense from any of them.

“I’m looking for Brotas. I was told he was here.”

“Aye, I’ll fetch him. Shall I bring you something to eat as well?”

“No, thank you,” Lorik said. “The ale is fine for now.”

“Suit yourself,” she said.

Lorik couldn’t tell if she was irritated or not, but the look on Stone’s face let Lorik know how his partner felt without saying a word.

“We can’t eat until we know how much they’re going to help us,” Lorik said.

“You were pretty confident before,” Stone groused.

It was only a minute or so before Brotas appeared. He was a small man, but it was obvious he thought of himself as a very important person. Lorik had dealt with people like Brotas many times, but this time would have to be different. This time he had to convince the man to provide resources directly to Lorik and Stone, rather than sending everything to the fort where Constable Yorn would hoard it.

“You looking for me?” Brotas said as he approached.

“Yes,” Lorik said standing up and extending his hand. “My name is Lorik. I’m leading a group of volunteers against the Norsik.”

Brotas grunted, his eyes narrowing.

“What has that got to do with me?” he asked.

“Well, we’re looking for resources,” Lorik said, trying to keep his face from giving away his doubts as he bluffed. “There hasn’t been any help delivered to Fort Utlig since the king’s soldiers left.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Brotas said.

“You’re head of the town council, aren’t you?”

“Aye, but our taxes have all been paid. Fort Utlig isn’t our responsibility.”

“I understand,” Lorik said, loosing a silent breath of relief that his bluff hadn’t been called. “But you have to know that we can’t continue to man the fort without resources.”

“And how is that our problem?” Brotas said, his voice rising as his anger grew.

“Well, I don’t want to tell you your business. In fact, I’ve only just arrived at Fort Utlig, but we sailed up the gulf and I can tell you that the Norsik are occupying towns all along the coast. It’s only a matter of time before—”

“Let me just stop you right there,” Brotas said, his inflated sense of self worth returning. “The Norsik may be a problem in other places, but not here. We haven’t had a raid here in Timmons Gate for decades.”

“But the Norsik have caught on to the fact the king’s soldiers have left the border,” Lorik said calmly. “It’s up to volunteers to keep you safe, and we need supplies.”

“What type of supplies?” Brotas asked.

“We need food, medicines, weapons, horses, and more men.”

Brotas laughed at Lorik’s list of demands, but Lorik had expected that. He wanted the man to feel in control and he had expected the arrogant attitude. The list Lorik had given was expensive, and he knew that getting the town to hand over that many goods would be difficult. Still, Lorik wanted the man to feel in control of the conversation, so he let Brotas ramble a while.

“There is simply no way we’re going to outfit every volunteer force who passes through here. For all I know you’re nothing but a band of outlaws, trying to trick us into giving up our goods without a fight.”

“You’re in for a fight, all right,” Stone said calmly. “When the Norsik come, the menfolk will all be killed, the women and children carried off as slaves. They will feast on your harvest, burn your town, take everything of value, and leave only ghosts.”

“There hasn’t been a raid in over thirty years,” Brotas said, his voice rising again.

“But there will be,” Lorik said calmly. “Sooner or later the bands that have passed through the Wilderlands will come this way.”

“The fort protects us,” Brotas said. The other patrons in the inn were listening to the innkeeper now. “We don’t have to worry as long as the fort is manned.”

“The fort is led by a constable who won’t come out,” Lorik said. “The Norsik aren’t looking for a fair fight. They’ll pass right by the fort, just out of bow range, and Constable Yorn won’t raise a finger to stop them. Then their first target will be Timmons Gate. They’ll make this their base of operations to raid throughout the countryside. Odds are, they’re already here. I’ve got a good group of fighters, but we need to be able to travel fast and light. We need to focus on fighting, not on food or shelter.”

“Yorn has all those things in the fort.”

“No,” Lorik said, staying calm, but letting his voice carry around the room so that the other men listening could hear. “Constable Yorn is living like a king in the fort. He’s wasting those supplies and without help I can’t force him out. My name is Lorik. I hail from Hassell Point. I will lead the volunteers and push back the Norsik, but I can’t do it without supplies.”

“We can send some food, but nothing more,” Brotas said.

“You can give the goods to us or to the Norsik,” Lorik said. “There are no other options. If we don’t stop the raiders here and now, they will sweep in, and all of northern Ortis will be lost.”

“Give them what they need,” said one of the other men who had been listening nearby.

“I can’t make that kind of decision without a council meeting,” Brotas said.

“So call the council,” Lorik said. “There’s no time to waste.”

“It’s not that simple,” Brotas said, stress beginning to show on his features.

“I’ll make it simple,” Lorik said. He turned to the other men in the room. “Go spread the word that we’ll be holding a town meeting in one hour, right here. They can hear us out and decide how to help.”

The men got up, but Brotas, afraid of losing his standing, quickly stopped them.

“No,” he said, his voice cracking a little. “This is a town council matter.”

“Don’t let the council endanger your families,” Stone said calmly, before draining the last of his ale.

The men hurried out.

“You can’t just come in here and scare everyone into giving you whatever you want,” Brotas said angrily.

“This is important,” Lorik said calmly. “I don’t want to take anything away from you or the town. But if we don’t pull together and face reality, there won’t be anything left of your town. So call your council together. Lead the meeting, but get us the things we need.”

Brotas started to speak again, but the dark-haired woman appeared with two plates of food. She set them down on the table for Lorik and Stone.

“Call the council,” she said to Brotas softly. “They aren’t asking for anything more than Lord Emry demands from us, and if you handle this right you can make it seem like your idea. I’ve told you how frightened everyone is.”

She touched his arm tenderly and with a sense of familiarity that Lorik recognized. Vera had dealt with him in just the same way.

“How many men do you have?” Brotas asked.

“Sixteen,” Lorik said. “But we need more. We’ll work from the fort, but we need to be able to patrol and scout. We need horses and we need more volunteers.”

“And you have experience as a soldier?” Brotas asked.

“No, I’m not a soldier,” Lorik said.

“But he single-handedly defeated Thuryk,” Stone said around a mouthful of food. “He freed slaves in Ange Point and we’ve fought the Norsik several times sailing north.”

“It’s a good idea,” the woman said.

“All right, all right,” Brotas said. “I’ll get you what you need, but you follow my lead in the meeting.”

“Of course,” Lorik said.

Brotas hurried off and the woman went to fetch Lorik and Stone more ale. They ate quietly, and before long people began to arrive in the inn. Most were men, but a few women came along, too. Some of them helped the dark-haired woman serve ale. When Brotas arrived nearly an hour later, he had a group of men in tow.

The common room of the inn was full of people and more were slipping in as the town council called the meeting to order.

“We’ve gotten official word that at least some of the rumors are true,” Brotas began. “The Norsik are raiding in earnest, but a group of volunteers has been formed to ride patrols. This is Lorik. He’s leading the volunteers.”

Lorik stood up and nodded.

“He needs supplies and more volunteers. Lorik, tell them what you plan to do.”

“Constable Yorn holds the fort, but the Norsik won’t attack the fort outright. We need horsemen and scouts who are familiar with the area to ride patrols. We’ll work from the fort, but our groups will be on horseback moving quickly along the Wilderlands, making contact with the other outposts and lending aid wherever it’s needed.”

“Have you seen the Norsik?” asked one of the men in the crowd.

“We’ve fought them at Ange Point and again at several small villages along the coast. We’ve held our own against the smaller groups, but there are more coming. The tribes are starting to band together. We saw over a hundred raiders less than four days from here,” Lorik said. “If a group that size comes through the Wilderlands, they’ll be hard to stop. With horses and patrols, we can do our best to disrupt the raids and warn the villages.”

“They need horses and supplies,” Brotas said. “I’ve spoken with the council and we’ve got stores laid up to outfit the volunteers, but we need horses.”

“What if we want to help fight?” asked one of the townsfolk.

“See me when we’re done,” Lorik said. “I’m a teamster. I can haul the supplies if someone has a wagon and team they can loan.”

There were questions and details to be worked out. Over a dozen men volunteered to help. Three of them were experienced riders and Lorik sent them out immediately. One went east and the other two west with strict instructions to observe and report. A wagon was loaded with food and supplies. Weapons were gathered and horses were tied to the back of the wagon. The town could supply only ten horses, but more were promised, and Lorik hoped he could get the rest from Fort Utlig. By late evening, they were headed back.

“Well, I didn’t believe you could do it,” Stone said. “But I’m impressed. You’re quite the politician.”

“Shut up,” Lorik said.

“I’m just saying you did good.”

“Why does it feel like your compliments are always veiled insults?”

“Hey, that hurts,” Stone said, trying not to laugh. “You’re paranoid, you know that?”

“I’m not paranoid, you’re just an idiot.”

“How is this going to work?” Stone asked. “I can’t be your right-hand man if you don’t trust me.”

“I trust you in a fight,” Lorik said. “I trust you when you’re sleeping. That’s the best you’re going to get from me.”

They made the trip back to the fort in only three hours. They arrived just after sunset and were met by a crowd of very worried women. Vera was in the lead and explained what had happened.

“The damn fool constable shot arrows at us,” she said angrily. “He said if we wouldn’t do as he commanded, he would see that we all hung from walls.”