Free Weapon of Flesh by Chris A. Jackson Page A

the blushing maid.  “I don’t mind sayin’ that I was worried that I’d drawn my last breath right there, but then Jorry McAllen and his three brothers stood up from their table and he told the lad to be off, or else.”
    “So the boy released you and left?”  Targus was playing the innkeeper well, egging him on at just the right moment.
    “Oh, he released my arm then, sure enough, but as far as leavin’...  Facin’ four well-grown men all totin’ steel and well acquainted in its use, the boy just stood there and asked why, like he didn’t understand.  Well, Jorry drew steel then, tellin’ the boy that he’d use it if he didn’t leave, but the words weren’t even out of his mouth before the boy took him.”
    “Took him.  An armed man?”
    “Aye, armed with this.”  The innkeeper reached below the bar and retrieved two pieces of a broken sword.  He dropped them on the bar for all to see.  “I was starin’ right at the boy, I was, and he moved so fast I couldn’t see it, nor tell you exactly what happened.  One moment he’s standin’ right where you are, the next Jorry’s slammed up against that wall there with broken ribs, and his sword is snapped like a twig.  Not only that, but the boy has this long piece here clapped between his hands, and he’s crouched down like a wildcat ready to pounce.  Well Vik, the youngest, wanted to fight him, but Lem said he’d not draw steel on someone who could take Jorry so easily, and I gotta say, I think he made the right decision.”
    “So what did you do?”
    “Well, Marra here put some leftovers in a sack and told the boy to just take the food and go.  And, believe it or no, that’s exactly what he did.  He picks up the bag and goes to the door, then turns and says that he never wanted any trouble, just food.  That was the last we saw of him, and I’m thankful for that.”
    “So you just let him go?”
    “Let him go, indeed!  Should we have tried to stop him and all been killed?”  The innkeeper made a rude noise and put the broken pieces of sword back beneath the bar.  “The constable took a few men to search the road for him.  They rode almost as far as Twailin, and found no sign of him.  They left this morning up the dwarf road to the east, but I don’t think they’ll have any better luck.”
    “A strange tale indeed, Innkeeper!”  Targus finished his ale and waved at the full common room.  “As to our own needs, if you are full to capacity this evening...”
    “Oh, we’ve a few private rooms where you and your friends can have a meal, and there’s no shortage of beds.  All these folk live hereabouts, and they’ll be headin’ home soon enough.”
    “Very good!”  Targus motioned his two apprentices to follow, and they were soon seated comfortably in a small room set in the back of the inn.  When the maid left them, Targus lowered his voice.  “This mysterious boy is undoubtedly our quarry.  The innkeeper’s story may be exaggerated somewhat, but there is no doubt that they were lucky.  The boy could have easily killed them all.”  He fixed his apprentices’ eyes with his own, driving home the gravity of the situation.
    “We must inform the Grandfather of what has happened.  Somehow, the weapon has escaped Corillian and is roaming free.  Mya, take all that we have learned here back to Twailin and relate it all to the Grandfather.  Talk to no one but him about this.”
    “Yes, Master.  I will need a fresh horse.”  Her voice was thick with lack of sleep, and the thought of days ahead that would offer no rest.
    “Here.”  Targus pushed a small pouch across the table to her.  “Buy the best horse this place has to offer and leave as soon as we eat.  And take this.”  He handed her a small glass vial full of amber liquid.  “Drink half of that after you eat.  It will keep you awake and alert for a full day.  As you feel it start to wear off, drink the other half.  That should get you to