Free The Thief King: The Line of Kings Trilogy Book Two by Craig R. Saunders, Craig Saunders Page A

days old, but beggars and itinerant thieves couldn’t be choosers.
                'Yesterdays
doings, I’m afraid, but good enough. I’ll join you, if you’ve a mind to talk,'
said the man, setting the cauldron above the burning logs to heat.
                'I’ve
a mind. I’d hear about these parts. It’s been some time since I’ve been this
way and I seemed to have got turned around a few days back.'
                'I
can give you directions to most places round these parts. Can’t guarantee
what’d be safe anymore. Hold on, I’ll just get the milk.'
                Roskel
wondered what the man thought safe. There had always been dangers a plenty for
a traveller in Sturma’s wild lands-- in its forests with their dark depths
hiding untold dangers for the unwary, its crumbling relics with their
guardians. The barren mountains to the west, holding back the Drayman raiders,
the unknown monsters of the sea…no, he thought the man meant some new threat.
                Just
perfect. Something else to deal with. Was nothing ever easy?
                This
journey was turning into a nightmare. Ghosts, storms, getting lost…what else
could it throw his way?
                The
landlord returned and placed two cups on a table to hand and two bowls beside
the fire to warm. He mumbled something Roskel didn’t catch and headed back to
the kitchen.
                This
better be a bloody feast, thought Roskel, for all the effort the man was going
to.
                Finally,
a pot full of chait set to warm before the fire, the man sat with a comfortable
sigh and pulled out a pipe.
                Once
he had a fair head of smoke around him, Roskel broke the easy silence.
                'So,
am I still north of the Fresh Woods?'
                'Aye.
Not too far north. Far enough that the troubles reach our ears but not our
hearths.'
                'What
troubles do you speak of?'
                'It
is strange, in truth. I do not know what to believe. Some tales grow in the
telling, but I’ll set you on with what I know, if you’re heading south…?'
                'I
am. I aim to skirt the forest though.'
                'Wise.
Well,' he said, settling into his pipe, 'There’s been odd doings further south.
Beasts long since forgotten since men settled this area are come to do mischief
along the borders. They come out of the forest at night. There’s been maulings
and not a few deaths. Some folk have disappeared. I’d chance a guess and say
they’ve been eaten…but that’s just a guess, mind. Ah, look at me, I’m not much
of a storyteller. I’m sure you could spin it into a tale to frighten a miner.'
                'No,
go on. I’m interested. What do you think is causing the animals to attack? I
take it these are just ordinary creatures?'
                'From
what I hear they’re ten feet tall, bears and big cats, things from darkest
nightmare, but that’s just what I hear and I don’t set much store by things. If
you ask me, its animals that have been put out since the logging began.
Probably disturbed their homes or some such.'
                'New
road?'
                'Aye,
to Haven.'
                The
man must have seen surprise on Roskel’s face.
                'You
know it?'
                'Yes.
I have been there, once. Some time ago. So it’s still there?'
                A
small indiscretion, thought Roskel. He should not have mentioned knowing the
bandit’s village. But too late now.
                The
man seemed to think for a moment.
                'Probably
different to when you knew it. It’s grown some in the last year or so. Been
trade between them and the outlying regions. Thriving, some might say. Still,
what do I know? We’re far removed from others out here. What