Realizing that he wouldn’t be able to get a room with Stormy, as she was a girl, he pulled the stones from her saddlebags and placed it next to his skin in his trousers. He trusted Stormy completely, but knew she would have to sleep sometime, and two were better than one. And he felt better if he held it himself.
  “Let’s see... Tavern... Tavern... Closed.... Full up... There we go!”
  It was a small little inn set off just to the left of the main square. The sign out front showed a dancing centaur girl with very little on and a broad smile.
  “The Dancing Centaur” Alan read. “Hmmm, looks like an inviting place.” He remarked.
  “Well, anything is better than just standing around here.” Tobias muttered as he pulled his cloak tighter around himself.
  “All right, let’s go in.”
  Inside the fire was burning brightly in the fireplace, the tables were full of customers, and a portly bearded man was moving through the crowd, offering a good word here and there while his serving wenches passed out mugs and beer and occasionally slapped the hand of a mischievous customer.
  “Hey!” He shouted. “No animals in here.”
  Alan stopped dead, shocked at his rudeness. And then he realized what he had said. He could feel his nails digging into the palm of his hand as he clenched his fist. How dare he! How dare he treat Stormy like that! A hand grabbed his back.
  “It’s all right, Master.” Stormy whispered. “I will see you in the morning, and sleep in the stable tonight.”
  “There are other inns that we can go to.” Alan whispered back.
  “And they all seem to be full. Besides it will most likely be the same everywhere.” Stormy argued. Before he could stop her, she left back out the front door just as the first drops of rain were falling.
  “Well now, young masters.” The man said jovially. “What can I get for ye my find lords?”
  “A room for my friend and myself,” Alan told him, trying to keep his teeth from grinding. “And a mug of cider if you would.”
  “Of course, your master of course!” The man said easily. “Martha! Get this young lad a drink, and his friend too!” He barked.
  A pretty young girl with long brown hair flounced to the kitchen and came back with two mugs as Alan and Tobias sat at a corner table.
  “Here you are my lords.” She giggled as she set the cups down without spilling a drop. Alan was impressed. “That’ll be a copper penny.” She held out her hand.
  Tobias reached into his purse and pulled out three copper pennies. “Here you are sweetheart,” he told her with a broad smile on his face. “You can keep the change.”
  “Thank you kind sir!” She pocketed the money so fast Alan stared. “Perhaps you’ll have a dance with me later?” She asked.
  “I’ll have the musician play something soft and slow.” Tobias whispered throatily as he pointed at the lone harp man as he sat near the fire strumming his instrument. Laughing merrily, the girl disappeared into the crowd.
  Alan leaned in. “What are you doing?” He asked.
  “There’s no reason we can’t be friendly.” Tobias told him. “I’ll see if she has a friend for you, if you want.”
  “You know that’s not why we are here.” Alan said crossly. Why was it so hard for him to see that?
  “Don’t be an old goat, Alan.” Tobias chortled. “There’s no reason we can’t dance with a pretty girl or two. Besides,” he whispered more seriously. “They serve all the customers that come here. They’re bound to have more news than anyone else.”
  Alan snorted. “And if you manage to pinch one on the bottom, then all the better for you, right?”
  His friend grinned unabashedly and Alan rolled his eyes. He should’ve expected Tobias to find some sort of mischief, while he was here.
  “Well, if you do dance with her ask her about Hells Gate and the pa’grund.” He reminded the grinning fool quietly.
  “What be your interest in the pa’grund?” An old man sitting at the next table asked them.
  They looked at him warily. As far as he could see though, there was no reason not to trust this man. He seemed old; his hair was white and cropped short along his skull except for his bushy eyebrows. A long look hooked nose jutted out from his face above thin lips that were pursed in a questioning manner as he regarded the boys.
  “We have business with them, and we are searching for the best advice.” He told the man carefully.
  “The best advice?” The man snorted. “That would be not to go.” He took a swig of his mug.
  “Yes, well. I’m afraid that I cannot do that.” Alan said a bit crossly. “I must speak with them. There is no one else.”
  “Take it easy lad.” The man said raising his hands placatingly. “I meant no disrespect. But my words are true; do not have dealings with the pa’grund if you absolutely can avoid it. I’ve had some with them on several occasions, and I bitterly regret it.”
  Alan perked his ears. Could it really be this easy? Alan felt his optimism rise a little bit and he gestured for the man to join them at their table. The man did so, after collecting his mug and cloak from the back of his chair. It was bright silver with red embroidery and sigil in the back. Alan could not make out what the sigil was before the man sat down.
  “Thank you lads.” The man said cheerfully. “I don’t like drinking alone, if I can help it.”
  “Yes, I suppose that being a Trader can be lonely.” Tobias said gruffly. So, Tobias did get a look at the cloak, Alan thought. The man was a Trader, one of the enterprising Guild merchants that regularly traveled the routes between the main cities and the villages. He was impressed, and instantly curious. The Traders were one of the most powerful guilds in all the land. Why was one of them in Crossroads?
  “Oh, being a Trader is not as easy as you might think, master...?”
  “Tobias.” He said warily.
  “Jerome.” The trader nodded.
  “Alan.” Alan introduced himself. “And there is one other in our company, although she is sleeping in the stables.” He said the last with bitter venom. Jerome raised his eyebrow.
  “Why would she forsake the comfort of the inn to sleep with the beasts?” He asked curiously.
  “She is a centaur.” Alan said by way of explanation.
  “Ah.” Jerome nodded, though it was clear he did not understand why it bothered Alan. He wisely stayed quiet on the subject and instead explained how he had come to Crossroads bearing cargo of rich furs that he had sold to the town’s elite. Alan was impressed, but said nothing. He steered the conversation back to the Pa’grund.
  “Well,” Jerome said thoughtfully. “The thing to understand about the Pa’grund is that they are big. They stand a foot taller than most people, maybe about six high. They are lizard like, with mouths as big as a man and arms like ours. It is never wise to anger one, as they will lash out and even bite, and their mouths have rows of small, sharp teeth. They are intensely concerned about striking a Bargain, however, and will stick to it no matter what. They try to make it in their favor, usually, but will adhere to any conditions you successfully manage to place. Generally for me, this is my share of the profits of cargo I run for them. Which brings me to another point; they will only handle high-value items, seeking always to become richer. They will not listen to anyone who does not possess great wealth of their own.”
  “I can handle that.” Alan said firmly. He thought about the swamp gems tucked firmly against his skin.
  “Do you?” Jerome seemed unimpressed. “I’m sure you have something that you no doubt think is rare and wonderful, but I can assure you that whatever it is, they have a dozen of it and more in their warehouse. I doubt they will want to deal with you.” His eyes traveled over their worn clothes and muddy boots before settling back on their faces. “I doubt you’ll even get through the front door.”
  “I can, with these.” Alan said firmly, and he pulled out the gemstones and placed three on the table. He felt it was worth the gamble, it was obvious Jerome wasn’t about to take them seriously until he was sure they could get an audience were they to go, and showing how Alan intended to do that might swing him over to their side. Tobias hissed and crowded in slightly, eyes scanning the crowd while Jerome sat still as a statue. He hesitantly placed his hand down on the table to pick one up and examine it.
  “Is this what I think it is?” he asked quietly.
  “Yes.” Alan said tersely.
  Jerome whistled quietly between his teeth as he stared at the lump of rock his hand. As a Trader, he probably had more knowledge of its worth than Alan did. Alan, as a villager of Boggington, was well aware of the current worth of his stones and knew that they were worth a small fortune, easily enough to buy his village twice over. Of course, the few Traders that came to them buy the stones did so at ridiculously low prices, claiming exorbitant mercenary fees for guarding their caravans, few buyers willing to pay the price, and a host of niggling little things that kept the lion’s share of the profit those who actually did the mining. And of course, they controlled the entire trade in and out, chasing other merchants away and giving them the monopoly. That was the way of the world, he thought bitterly.
  “Very pretty lad.” He said softly. “Best put them away and keep them safe.”
  He took a deep breath as Alan replaces stones into his belt pouch. Gesturing with his hand he made them lean in. His eyes carefully traveled over the patrons of the common room as he spoke.
  “Now, here’s what I know. I have had dealings with pa’grund in the past. I actually maintain couple contacts with them, so I have some clue as how to bargain.”
  Jerome spoke for another hour, telling them what to look for in terms of expressions, but to watch out for, what to say and what not to say, and how best to close the deal. When he had finished, most of the common room had emptied of people.
  “Thank you, kind Sir. Your information will be most helpful when we finally get to our destination.” Alan said politely. “But for now we must get our rest. Fair travels to you, stranger.”
  “And to you, wherever you fare.” Jerome finished. His eyes followed them as they slowly made their way upstairs to their room.
  “I’m not sure I like the look of him.” Tobias muttered as they locked the door. “I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that we haven’t seen the last of him.”
  “Well, suspicious or not, he’s given us more information than we’ve had in a lifetime. I only hope we can find a pa’grund willing to listen and barter with us.” Alan said. “Besides, it’s time for sleep. We can sleep in soft beds tonight. I’m sure soon enough we will be wishing for a soft bed to lay our heads on.”
  “You may be right.” Tobias rejoined. “But I think I shall keep one eye open.”
  “Perhaps that is for the best.” Alan yawned. “Wake me if you get tired, and I shall take the second watch.”
  Stripping quickly, they left only their smallclothes on before settling in for the night. As his head touched the pillow, Alan muttered a quick prayer for Mary. He was asleep at the last word.
 
  Alan awoke to the sounds of shouting, bellowed curses, and smoke. As he struggled out of bed, getting tangled in sheets, he shouted questions of his own. Mostly, he wanted to know what was going on.
  “I don’t know.” Tobias told him as he peered slowly out of the cracked door. “I think the inn is on fire.” He said startled.
  Alan looked at in surprise, who would start a fire in an inn? He briefly wondered is some drunken fool had knocked a lantern over, until he heard the sharp clash of arms.
  That is not the sound of some idiot, he thought nervously. He reached for his pants. Dressing quickly he picked up his boar spear and bow. The bow he strode across his back, it would do no good indoors, but the spear he held across his chest might do some good. At the very least they should make a common brawler think twice. He hoped.
  Together they eased out of the door and towards the stairs. What they beheld made them pause in horror. The common room was a shambles. Struggling figures moved on the floor amid broken stools and shattered tables. Many of the legs were missing; Alan wondered where they had gone, until he noticed several of the figures wielding them in the melee.
  “A fellow could get hurt going down there.” He muttered. He briefly thought about returning to their room and barricading the door, but the smoke was getting thicker. He couldn’t see the fire in the brawl, but the pillar of smoke seemed thickest near the fireplace.
  The servant girls were huddled in the back behind the bouncer and the innkeeper, both holding cudgels in their hands, against the back wall. They kept an eye on the combatants, but neither seemed particularly eager to break up the fight, and Alan doubted if they even could at this point. There were simply too many. He felt a grudging respect for the innkeeper. Even if he wasn’t nice to Stormy, he was still defending his people before his inn. That was something for him, he supposed.
  It also provided a way out, which he pointed out to Tobias.
  “Are you mad? Those fellows look ready to crack the head of any who come near.” Tobias whispered fiercely.
  “Perhaps.” Alan whispered back equally fierce. “But they’ve also cleared out the only path out of here without getting our heads knocked or stabbed in the back.”
  Tobias grumbled, but couldn’t offer any better suggestion. Muttering about how they never should have stayed here in the first place, he followed Alan down the stairs. Alan refrained from pointing out that it was Tobias’s suggestion they stay there, after all, and not his.
  At the foot of the stairs they started crossing the open space, keeping a close watch on the fight when a shadow detached itself from the wall near the innkeeper. The face of the man was most unpleasant, with a gap toothed grin, bald pate shining in the firelight, and deep-set eyes in beefy face.
  “’ello boys.” He dipped his head at them. “’ow’s about givin’ me them shiny gems, eh?” he pointed a small, wicked crossbow at them from the depth of his sleeve. “An’ nothin’ funny.” He added.
  Alan cursed mentally. He couldn’t believe how careless he had been. Now he was going to be robbed in the middle of a brawl!
  “The stones are for trading with the pa’grund.” He summoned what courage he had left and forged on. “My sister is sick and they can heal her.”
  The thief whistled slightly through his teeth. “The pa’grund.” He said slowly. “I’ll grant ya, ya don’t go small! Still don’ make no diff. I’m taking ‘em stones now.” He twitched the crossbow as if to say; hurry up!
  Raging mentally, Alan undid the purse strings and pulled them from his trousers. He held them in his hand and watched with helpless anger as the thief reached to take them, keeping the crossbow pointed at his chest.
  Thunk! The thief’s eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he collapsed in a senseless heap. Jerome quickly tucked the cudgel back in his cloak, taking no notice of the innkeeper and the bouncer staring at him with slack jaws.
  “This inn is no longer conducive to business.” He told Alan briskly. “I suggest we go to the stables to fetch your horses and my wagon, and we can leave the city tonight.”
  “Wait.” Tobias said before Alan could speak. “Shouldn’t we turn him in to the Watch?”
  Jerome shook his head. “Alas, but this is Archibald Gut-Breaker, one of the premier enforcers of the Thieves Guild and a powerful man here in Crossroads. I’m afraid turning him into the Watch would be as good as killing us instead.”
  Tobias gulped and Alan stared. The man on the floor was an enforcer? What was he doing here? Should they just kill him? Alan could think of no better way to set the Guild on them than to attack one of their members. Of course, worse yet would be killing one.
  Sensing their hesitation, Jerome reached out and gave Alan a tug on his arm to get him moving. Stumbling forward in the smoke, Alan staggered blindly out of the inn with Tobias and Jerome right behind him.
  The stable hands were cowering behind the door when the three ran by. Wide eyes watched them fearfully from pale faces as Alan came up to them.
  “Where is Stormy?” he demanded of a freckle-faced youth that must have been a stable hand’s apprentice.
  “’oos she?” he asked.
  “The centaur.” Alan snapped.
  “Oh. She’s in that big stall in the back.” the lad pointed helpfully. “You’ll need that big key hanging in the back room.”
  “Thanks!” Alan hurried to find the key and unlock the big oak door that was the entrance to the stall.
  Inside Alan stopped cold. Stormy was fast asleep on the bed of hay provided, but around her neck was a heavy iron collar fastened to the wall with a chain. Four others connected to her ankles that gave her the reach to move around the stall but not reach the door. There weren’t any bruises that Alan could see, but the collar had started to chafe her neck and Alan saw red. He was half in mind to free Stormy and leave and half to go and throttle the stable hands.
  Seeing Stormy stir slightly as the bright light invaded her sleep decided him. Using the key to unlock her collar and manacles, he helped her get to her feet as she came awake demanding to know what was going on.
  “The inn’s on fire and we’re running from the Thieves Guild.” Alan told her as he buckled her saddle on her.
  He looked up to see why she had gone so still and saw her staring at him in shock.
  “You did what?” she gasped finally.
  “It’s not important.” Alan said gruffly.
  “Not important!” Stormy squealed. “It’s the Thieves Guild! If they don’t skin us alive, they’ll boil us in oil! They’ll kill us!”
  “I doubt they’ll boil us in oil.” Alan snorted. “That’s just being silly.” I hope. “They’ll probably take all we own though, which is why we’ve got to get out of here.”
  “Who’s he?” Stormy asked as she caught sight of Jerome directing the hitching of four glossy chestnuts.
  “Jerome.” Alan said shortly. “A Trader. I have no idea how he got to come along, but he has.”
  “I see.” Stormy said though it was clear that she had no idea. Alan finished saddling her and found her spear standing in the small tack room.
  The wagon moved steadily through the streets, not rushing, but not dragging either. Jerome motioned the boys to come closer to his perch on the driver’s seat.
  “Listen, I have a plan to get us out of the gate. You two are going to be my guards for my cargo that I’m moving to Hells Gate. I’ll say its cod from the sea. They’ll understand how precious a commodity fresh cod is especially for the people in Hells Gate.”
  Alan wasn’t sure if it would work, but stayed silent. He pulled out his spear and tried to look intimidating. Stormy gripped hers nervously, while Tobias unslung his bow and strung it.
  The far gate was manned by a couple of bored guards that looked half-asleep. They barely noticed the caravan coming until they were nearly at the guardhouse already. When they did notice, they groped for their weapons and called them to halt.
  Jerome stopped the wagon, Tobias and Alan on either side of him. “Open the gate.” He called. “I need to leave at once.”
  “Why are you leaving here this late?” The guard asked suspiciously. “If you had no intention of stopping, you should not have stopped here for the night.” His glare settled on Jerome. “The gate is shut for the evening. There is no way out.”
  “I have urgent business in Hells Gate and it is imperative that we get there as soon as possible.” Jerome replied arrogantly. “I am a Trader, good sir, and I demand that you treat me with more respect.”
  “Oh, pardon me my Lord.” The guard sneered. “A Trader is it?” He spat to the side. “Jus’ what I need on a night like tonight.”
  “I care not for your petty whims.” Jerome snapped. “I had not intended to stay the night, but my guards up and left me. It took me until now to find replacements for them.”
  At that the guard looked hard at Alan and Tobias. His gaze passed over Stormy as if she wasn’t there, until he noticed her spear. At that, his eyes jerked back to her and he frowned.
  “Slaves aren’t allowed to have weapons.” He said in a hard tone. His hand edged towards his sword.
  “Rain is mine.” Alan said firmly. “Rather than wait for a third man to join the party, I armed her. I will vouch for her. Now let us pass.” He tried to make his voice sound bored and unconcerned, but inside he was sweating. He held his breath.
  “Still ain’t right.” The guard grunted, but he took his hand from the hilt of his sword and turned back to Jerome. “I don’t care what your business is.” He snarled. “You still are not passing through my gates.”
  “Very well.” Jerome snapped. “However, I will be sure to get your name, and your partners, when I make my report to Zala’ess.”
  The guard’s eyes widened and his faced paled to the color of sour milk. “Zala’ess.” He whispered softly in horror.
  “Yes.” Jerome said equally softly. “You understand my hurry now.”
  “Very much so” the guard answered. Barking a command to his subordinate, he opened the gate.
  As they walked out of the gate, the guard looked to Jerome, and muttered a quick prayer. Jerome regarded him coolly. “I shall make no mention of this.” He said gently. “It is already forgotten.”
  The relief on the guard’s face was palpable and he seemed to sag around his halberd as they left the light of the torches. Now, the only light came from the lanterns hung from the corners of Jerome’s wagon and the light poles strung from their saddles.
  Tobias came around the wagon to walk with Alan and Stormy. “I guess Crossroads wasn’t the place to be tonight.” He whispered softly, eyes on Jerome.
  “What exactly happened back there?” Stormy asked.
  Alan and Tobias took turns filling her in on what exactly it happened, although Alan was none too sure what had occurred himself. He reviewed the sequence of events that night, and to find no logic or common thread to them. Except one, and his gaze strayed to the figure on the top of the wagon.
  “Well, I guess it could’ve turned out for the worse.” Stormy said gloomily. “We shall have to be careful for a while, lest we find our throats cut by villains in the dark.”
  “And not all of them may be from strangers.” Tobias muttered. And so they went on.