Free Free the Darkness (King's Dark Tidings Book 1) by Kel Kade

He may have arrived sometime
in the last week. Is there a way I can find out if he has entered the city?”
    “You’ll have to go to the main guardhouse for that. The
city’s travel records are public information, but you’ll have to look through
them yourself,” the first guard informed him.
    “Thank you, sir,” Rezkin nodded courteously, “you have been
most helpful. May I now enter?”
    “Yes, yes, go on. Don’t cause any trouble,” the guard said
as he waved Rezkin through. The second guard was determinedly not looking at Rezkin as he studiously examined the old man in the cart, which was
in turn making the old man nervous. Apparently, elderly farmers with noisy
small-men required more scrutiny than a young warrior covered in weapons riding
a battle charger. Rezkin shook his head. What good was a guard who was too
scared to confront a possible threat?
    Rezkin guided his horse down the main boulevard taking in
all of the new sights and sounds and smells, all the while developing plans for
quick escape routes and identifying the most defendable positions just in case
people decided to attack him. He had been expecting the foul smell. The masters
had told him that cities, almost in their entirety, smell like a latrine, and
they had been right.
    The one thing Rezkin had not been prepared for in his
studies was the noise. The masters had told him that cities were loud, but he
never realized just how loud people could be. Small-men were squealing or
wailing, merchants were shouting out their wares, and men and women alike were
hollering to each other or having boisterous conversations on outside patios.
Carts groaned and clanked over the cobblestones, hooves clopped against the
hard ground, dogs barked, and doors and windows creaked and slammed as people
opened and closed them. Somewhere not far away, Rezkin could hear a
blacksmith’s hammer slamming down on an anvil seemingly in concert with the
clanging of pots and pans from a nearby restaurant overlaid by a woman’s voice,
not quite in tune, singing a bawdy melody. Never had the young warrior thought
to hear so many sounds all at once.
    Rezkin had learned of all of the inns in the major cities
and knew which would be best to stay in depending on his need. Today, he
decided to head to the Golden Cockerel. It was supposed to be a moderate
establishment that was clean and well managed. Overall, it was simply average.
It was located near to the market and was one of the closest to the main
guardhouse. Rezkin doubted that Farson would have given his real name upon
entering the city, but he could check the records just to be certain. If he
constantly assumed that Farson would know better, then he would never be able
to catch the striker’s mistakes.
    After five blocks, Rezkin turned to the right and continued
for half a block. There, on his right, was the Golden Cockerel. He examined it
closely, taking in all of the small details and ensuring he completely
understood the layout of the building and those surrounding it in order to plan
his escape routes. A small-man of about fourteen years approached him with a
cheeky smile and bowed with a flourish.
    “Good evening, sir! The Golden Cockerel is the nicest inn
this side of the city. People come from all over to taste our fare. Our stables
are dry, and our floors are clean. You couldn’t ask for a better stay,” the
small-man paused in his obviously practiced speech and eyed the massive battle
charger. With less certainty he asked, “Shall I take your horse?”
    Rezkin smiled in return, not wanting to scare the small-man
off, and considered the question. It had taken him some time to learn the Skills necessary to handle a hardened battle charger. Even now the horse was huffing
and stomping as he eyed the small-man. The small-man’s lack of confidence would
get him nowhere with the disgruntled horse.
    “No, I think I had best see to him, myself,” Rezkin replied.
The small-man’s relief was evident, but he also