“The Road to Mage’s End”
The wagons had barely crossed the threshold of the gate of the Keep before a commotion forced Josh Savage to bolt from his position in the rear of the formation down the length of the caravan. The gully dwarf in the lead had managed to entangle his horses with those of two wagons over-stuffed with pipeweed from Millshire. The halfling drivers cursed in disturbingly fluent orcish.
Barely able to speak coherently in one language, the gully dwarf spouted gibberish in return, waving a hand randomly in the air for added emphasis.
Josh rode in between the harsh words and almost-words, and raised his hand in silence until both sides subsided from shouts to grumblings, and then unhooked the tangled horses. He led the caravan's wagon around the covered wagons of pipeweed, and motioned for the caravan followed.
The gully dwarf giggled behind him.
Josh looked back and saw that Lufkin had grabbed a handful of pipeweed from one of the wagons as they bypassed the halflings. He should not have been surprised. When all the other drivers were checking and double-checking their harnesses and rigs, Lufkin had been checking his horses for rocks or other debris embedded in the soft part of the hoof. By sniffing them.
He deftly snatched the pipeweed from Lufkin, and returned it to its rightful place under the tarp of the tail halfling wagon.
“I could have probably used that myself, later,” Josh whispered to his steed. Buck, his dapple grey gelding by courtesy of the Order, did not answer as it trotted to a position between the pipeweed wagons and the caravan.
When he had left Praxis City as a detective of the Watch, he thought that joining the Order of the Broken Arrow would lead him to great adventure. He had imagined scouting Talon’s Rift, tracking a wounded owlbear or griffon, or ferreting out kobold warrens. Instead, he was managing traffic on Merchant’s Way.
As the tail wagon of the caravan passed him, he noticed Phaedo had not even stirred from his position sleeping among the bales of second hand clothing.
Apparently, Josh also had the distinct luck of being the only ranger to have summoned a narcoleptic animal companion. His newly acquired fleshraker’s scaly hide, sharp claws, and head-full of teeth were somehow less menacing when Phaedo was wrapped up in an embryonic position, snoring softly, and kicking his legs feebly like a puppy dreaming.
“At least he isn’t spooking the horses, right, Buck?” Josh said, and patted his mount’s neck.
Buck swatted at a horsefly with his tail.
He rode through the wagons, nodding at the caravan’s adept as he passed. Most caravans had guards, an entertainer, and a spellcaster. Being the maiden voyage of the House of Silverthorn into the caravan business, they had only been able to recruit a gnome adept instead of a wizard, sorcerer, or bard. Ivy’s specialty, as it turned out, was entertaining children by summoning cats and changing the colors of their fur to purple, pink, or polka dotted. That should suffice if the caravan encountered whatever wiped out the Umbertoe caravan and its escort of griffon-riding half-orc mercenaries, Josh thought sarcastically.
The caravan's crew should get upgraded as the caravan brought in profits. Josh imagined his wife Lia could replace the entertainer, and maybe Skye could find something as well.
Josh smiled, and thought of Lia. He could think of nothing better than feeling his unborn child child moving inside her round belly. “Yes, things could definitely be worse.”
****
He’s on the way, Celeste said, in that peculiar way ghosts spoke without moving their lips.
“Are you sure about this?” the Mad Necromancer asked. They stood in top of the abandoned tower, peering down at the sleepy village through the large hole the dragon made in the wall. “We’ve ran this ruse before. There are just so many fathers we can claim for your daughter and get away with it.”
Who says this a ruse this time? the ghost elf smiled, and flipped transparent hair away from her face. Mark my words, father. Josh Savage will be coming to Mage’s End to stay.
