Chapter 4 - Ullden

The sunlight streaming in long, thin shafts around the edges of the curtains woke Ullden from his dreams. He squinted disapprovingly at the window, realizing that it was already later than he'd planned to wake this morning. He slipped out of the bed, careful not to wake the young brunette woman still sleeping there. The covers only half covered her soft, pale skin and for a moment he stood and argued with himself over the idea of staying just an hour longer. Memories of her nimble fingers and supple lips from the night before did little to discourage him. Reminding himself that an old friend of his would be waiting for him at a keep only a few days down the road finally convinced him to get dressed. He turned away and tugged on his shirt and pants. However, he had his bracers, socks and boots on before he could actually lace the pants closed and fasten his belt.

He left the heavier, metal pieces of armor for after breakfast and headed downstairs, quietly closing the door behind him. It occurred to him as he made his way downstairs that he couldn't remember the woman's name. He frowned at that, since he usually made a point of knowing. He remembered having quite a bit to drink, however, as the bard playing at the inn had been exceptionally good and the woman had been his sister. He'd also ended up dropping quite a bit of money in tips into the bard's lutebox as a result. He wondered briefly if she'd even told him her name, or if she had also been working him. He stopped a moment at the bottom of the stairs, to check his coinpurse. When he found everything in order he shrugged and sat down at a table in the dining area.

The girl who served him breakfast was pretty, but he did his best to avoid eye contact with her. He didn't need any further distractions keeping him from getting started on the road. Nonetheless, he found himself watching the sway of her hips as she made her way back and forth between the kitchen. He hardly noticed the eggs, potatoes, and bread he was eating. It was gone before he really realized it, and he drained the glass of juice before leaving the table. He nodded at the other people he'd been sitting near, noticing that the room had filled up while he'd been eating. There was a low roar of conversation settling over the inn. There were a surprising amount of families among them. Many people were heading north or west in the hopes of getting to safety before the Elar made it to where they lived. The news and rumors he'd heard the night before had been disturbing, to say the least.

He stopped at the kitchen and acquired a plate and glass for the woman in his room. A part of him hoped she'd be dressed, or at least better covered, by the time he arrived, but most of him hoped otherwise. He paused for a moment and exhaled upon entering the room, as she'd rolled over and was no longer covered at all. He let the door close behind him with a bit of a banging before setting the plate and glass down on the bedside table. The manner in which she yawned and stretched did not help matters any, but breakfast and time had helped his own resolve and he was able to merely give her a smile before heading over to start packing his belongings and donning the remainder of his armor.

"Good morning," he said as he sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up one of his packs. "I've brought you some breakfast. I hope you slept well."

"Oh, I've slept worse," she said with a sarcastic grin. She made no move to cover herself, and he found himself avoiding looking directly at her. She sat up cross-legged and picked up the plate. He had to admit she was in great shape and had a very nice--

He moved around to the other side of the bed to finish stuffing his backpack. He filled it up with a bit more energy than strictly needed. He dropped it heavily onto the bed. Yesterday he had stocked up with more provisions, so there was nothing outside this room keeping him from leaving.

"So are you leaving today?" she asked.

"Yes. I'm meeting someone in a couple of days. I shouldn't keep him waiting." When he spoke to her he very pointedly maintained eye contact, keeping his eyes from straying. Good peripheral vision made that difficult. He turned again to grab the last pieces of armor from the table.

"I'm glad we ran into each other last night, though," he admitted. "Tell your brother that I've heard a lot of bards in a lot of cities, and he's good."

"Are you sure you weren't just trying to impress me?" she asked, with a taunt in the tone of her voice.

He allowed himself one more full look of her. He wasn't about to tell her that even if he hadn't seen her that someone would have woken up in the bed with him. She was not the most beautiful woman he'd met, but was one of the more beautiful that he'd bedded. He lifted the sword leaning against the table and belted it around his waist.

"I only try to impress the people who're paying me," he said, one hand still on the hilt of his sword.

"Hmm, perhaps I should have tossed a couple coins at you," she mused aloud. "Imagine if you'd been trying to impress me as well."

He looked up at her again, an eyebrow raised in surprise.

"I don't think I've met a woman quite like you before," he admitted, turning quickly back to the last piece of armor. He lifted the slightly battered metal breastplate up into place and fastened the leather straps around himself. He'd turned his back to her and suddenly felt her hands, helping him, handing him the straps one by one. When he'd fastened the last, she leaned upwards and put her lips right next to his ear.

"Trust me. It's unlikely you ever will again," she said in a low, sultry voice. He found one hand gripping the edge of the table in front of him as he tried to maintain his composure while she ran the tip of her tongue along the ridges and curves of his ear. Then she bounced backwards onto the bed and lay sprawled across it. She watched him, unashamed and laughing. For a moment, the desire to strip his armor back off and stay just an hour longer was almost overwhelming. He shook his head, partly at her and partly at himself, before grabbing up the larger of his packs and slinging it over his shoulder. He grabbed up the smaller bag and saddlebags in one hand and then leaned over to give her a kiss before leaving.

"It's been a pleasure," he told her as he bent down.

"The name's Anessa," she said with a chuckle. "Don't worry, Ullden, I wouldn't tell you last night."

"I won't forget," he replied with a chuckle of his own. He kissed her, intending it to be brief, but found himself regretting again that he needed to leave as their lips met. He'd been leaning into the bed with one knee and needed to put his free hand down onto the mattress to keep from falling over onto it.

"I have to go," he said, once they parted, allowing his regret to color his voice.

"Safe journey Ullden," she said with a smile. "Perhaps we'll meet again one day."

"I'd like that," he said, standing up and re-adjusting his bag on his shoulder. "Gods keep you safe Anessa." He turned and left the room, knowing that if he looked back he'd surely stay another day. As it was, certain pieces of his armor were feeling more constricting than they had when he'd put them on. He heard her voice behind him, as he closed the door to the room.

"Gods watch over you Ullden."

He made his way downstairs and stopped off at the kitchen for a glass of water and to refill his canteen before heading to the stables to collect his horse. Two of the kitchen boys offered to take his bags out for him, and he let them, tossing each a coin for their labors.

He followed the two boys to the stable. His saddle and some more of his gear were hung on pegs on the stall wall. His horse was a deep brown color. He'd had her almost three years now. He grabbed up the saddle and blanked and laid them on her.

"Are you a knight?" one of the boys asked.

"What makes you think that?" Ullden asked with a chuckle.

"Well, you've got all that armor and a sword. I s'pose you could be a soldier or a mercenary, too."

"Well, I'm not exactly a knight," he said, strapping the saddle in place. "I go where I please, do more or less what I want. There's no lord or commander giving me orders."

"My ma says folk like you 're just freebooters an' rabblerousers," the other boy said.

"Trouble? Me? I've been called worse," Ullden said, taking the bag from the boy to strap to the saddle. "But I'm no thief." He took the bag from the other boy. "You two should run along now, I'm sure there's things you're supposed to be doing."

The two boys ran off back towards the house and Ullden chuckled as he heard the first boy chiding the second for saying such things to a guest. Ullden finished gearing up his horse and tying his bags and other items in place, checking to be sure the horse had been properly cared for in the process. The horse was named Banks, a name she'd had before Ullden had bought her. The man who'd sold her to him had said it was because she'd been born unexpectedly while her mother had been grazing along the banks of a river. Ullden didn't care much for the name, but the horse seemed to turn her head in his direction when he used it, so he hadn't bothered changing it.

"You rested up, Banks?" he asked in a soothing voice as he led her out of the stables. "We've got a few more days to go before you'll likely see stables again."

She seemed to snort as if in answer and he gave her a fond pat on the neck before swinging himself up into the saddle. There was no one there to see him off, although he did find himself casting a glance upwards at the window to the room he'd been staying in. Anessa was not watching from the window, and he felt a small pang of regret before he turned Banks into the road. He scanned the skies as he made his way out of town at a fast canter, and was pleased to see that the weather looked to be clear for the day.

Once they'd passed beyond the town's limits, he urged Banks into a gallop and they put some distance behind them. They alternated between periods of hard riding and easy trotting along the uneven dirt roads that lay before them. He passed others on the road, most of whom seemed to be going the opposite direction as he was. At one point, he saw a large caravan moving up one of the crossroads. It looked to be almost entirely wagons of families and supplies, along with some guards and hunters. If he hadn't already been headed somewhere specific, he would have considered seeing if they were hiring any extras. He doubted it they were, however. There seemed to be more money in guarding those headed towards cities held by the Elar than those going away from them. While some merchants still tried to head into areas near the occupied cities, their prices had been going up considerably for the effort.

Ullden suspected that the Elar weren't the only reason people were moving further away at this point. Some just couldn't afford to pay the prices for food and other goods. Local resources in those areas were getting scarce too, as the Elar would raid the areas near the cities they held, taking what supplies they needed. In some areas, Ullden had heard they had managed to secure the cities themselves and were already heading outwards. Rumors said that they were pulling people off their farms and herding them into groups in towns while they stripped the farms clean of food. No one was entirely sure what they were doing with the people. Some said mass murder or sacrifice to some god. Others said they would be used as a slave force like the Morgule. No one was entirely sure what it was the Elar wanted or what offense had been made to fuel such an attack. All those sent to try and negotiate peace or at least find out their demands or complaint were never seen again.

None of that was really his problem anyway, he reminded himself. He let his eyes wander the farmland and scattered forests. He would meet his friend Wellar, and trek along on another silly expedition with him.

Wellar was one of those odd sorts of people who came up with a silly question and wouldn't rest until it was answered. In this case, the question revolved around one particular piece of wilderness off to the northwest that had never been settled. Wellar's real question was why. At least the man wasn't entirely so stupid as to go off on such a quest alone, so off Ullden went to join him.

If the reason no one had ever settled that particular chuck of low mountains and forest had something to do with some hungry monster maybe he'd be able to keep his friend alive long enough to escape. It was still a fool's quest, he muttered aloud.

He passed the day riding. He waved helloes to people he passed. Some of those people looked hopeful and some looked grim. He paid less attention to the grim ones.

He stopped at a spot near a couple of other caravans. He was more in the mood for quiet than company for a change, so he camped off by himself. The last thing he needed right now was another woman to distract him. He took care of Banks, cooked himself a nice dinner, slept well, and continued on his way in the morning.

The next couple of days' travel were quiet. The weather seemed to be holding, although he saw storm clouds heading in on the horizon. He estimated he would arrive at the keep just in time to avoid having to ride or camp in the rain. The steady flow of people heading in the opposite direction as him didn't seem to be letting up. He wasn't sure, but it even seemed possible it was getting bigger. He found himself guiding Banks to ride alongside the road so that wagons could pass more and more frequently. The land he was passing through was mostly farmlands, with the occasional small forest or large pond interrupting the rolling hills of green and gold. Some crops had been harvested already and on several occasions he saw farmers out working their fields.

He crossed a small river, not far from his destination. The road veered a ways to allow crossing at the narrowest point, and a wooden bridge had been built at some point. The bridge appeared a bit worse for wear, and he walked across it, leading the horse as he tested the footing ahead of them. They made it across, but Ullden found himself worrying about the wagons in caravans crossing it. He suspected that the bridge had not been built with that volume of wagon traffic in mind, and he made a mental note to mention something when he reached the keep. They'd know who would have to take responsiblity for repairing the bridge.

The scene he found when he came in sight of the keep itself was unexpected. The rounded stone walls of the building rose up from the hill it sat upon. The ground around it on the hill had been cleared for quite a distance, allowing those manning the keep to see before anyone reached the keep's walls themselves. However, littering that expanse of open grassy land were hundreds of tents and wagons. It was late afternoon as he approached the final stretch of road leading up to the gate, and he could see the smoke of campfires, rising up from within the camps. The closer he got to the keep, children began to come up to the road to meet him. Nearly all of them had their hands outstretched, begging for some coin or food, while other children watched from further back, their eyes watching him as he passed.

Inside the gates of the keep, things were loud and crowded. He saw one area which appeared to be occupied by soliders, training young men how to fight. Ullden suddenly found himself wondering just how far off the Elar really were, if they were mounting a defense this far inland. He made inquiries of some of the local guards to find the keep's commander. He knew that Wellar would have done the same and it would be the quickest means to sort through the mess of people and find his friend.

He was informed several times that the commander was not available. Eventually someone did lead him to an aide. The aide was a tall and skinny man, losing hair that was also turning from brown to gray.

"My name is Ullden," he explained to the aide. "I'm here to meet a friend and business associate. He's a scholar named Wellar. He would have made a point of introducing himself when he arrived."

"We've quite literally had a year's worth of traffic in the last week alone, sir," the aide said, sounding irritated yet with an apologetic expression.

"Are things really as bad as the rumors tell?"

"Things do not go well south of here. If those lands should fall, this keep will be the next to be attacked. That is about all I'm able to say just now. If you are a mercenary seeking work I can arrange the appropriate interview."

"No," Ullden said, frustrated, "technically I've already been hired. And I don't do war, thanks."

"I think you'll find the inns completely filled up," the aide went on. "If this scholar of yours shows up, where shall I say he might find you?"

"There's a shop here he knows. I'll leave word there next."

"I should warn you. If he's coming from the south, there is a fair chance you'll not ever see your friend again. Scholars are not faring well in Elar occupied lands."

"What do you mean?" Ullden asked.

"Suffice it to say that the Elar round up the priests and scholars first and kill them. After that, we're not sure. We think the rest are being enslaved, like they did with the Morgule. How, we don't know, since their numbers ought to be thinning, making it difficult to keep control of so many slaves." The aide shook his head. "Maybe your friend made it out or kept quiet. Either way, I don't recall hearing his name, so if he would have checked in I don't think he's been here yet. Now, if you'll excuse me sir, I've got a lot of other things that need my attention right now." The man gave him a brief nod before turning and heading off, quickly getting lost in the crowd of people. Ullden sighed with frustration, and turned towards the marketplace.

In a half-circle around behind the general marketplace was a two-story stone building. It was divided up into twenty permanent shops, ten upstairs and ten below. Most of the merchants who leased those shops from the keep also lived in them as well. A long balcony ran along in front of the second story, with four wooden staircases leading up to it at different points. Banners hung from the balcony, advertising the different shops contained within. He frowned as he approached, not recognizing the banner that hung where the shop he was headed towards was located. His attention was distracted for a moment, as two children nearly tripped him up trying to chase down some chickens. They, too, were swallowed up by the crowd almost as quickly as they had appeared. He concentrated his attention on pushing his way through the teeming mass of bodies as people argued or haggled with merchants, or attempted to leave with their purchases. He kept one hand securely on his coinpurse, even though it was tucked into a pocket, and the other firmly on the reins of his horse as he pushed his way through.

He was relieved to find other horses tied at the post and undisturbed, and tied Banks in along with them before heading up the nearest stairs to the second level. Upon arriving at the doorway of the shop, he realized that it had changed entirely. What had previously been a bookstore, was now a shoemaker. Frowning, he went inside.

"Excuse me," he inquired of the man behind the counter peering at a pair of men's shoes through glasses. "What happened to the bookstore that was here please?"

Despite the fact that Ullden was the only other person in the shop at that moment, the man looked up and looked around as if trying to locate who'd spoken. Then he blinked as he removed his glasses and looked directly at Ullden.

"Ahhh, you must not have been 'ere in a while, I've been 'ere near as four years now I reckon," the man said.

"I see. What about the couple that owned the bookstore? Are they still here somewhere?" He knew that Wellar would want to confer with Vera, the bookstore owner's wife, who read tea leaves and the like. While Ullden didn't trust those sorts of things, Wellar was fascinated by those who seemed to be able to predict accurately.

"Mekin an' Vera? Aye, good folk those two. Mekin caught some kinda illness that took 'im down real quick. Vera couldn't manage the bookstore herself so she sold off the books to some merchants for cheap and then moved in with another widower friend o' hers. She was makin' some coin by readin' people's runes fer 'em, an' then the Duke caught wind o' her durin' a visit. Called her a 'seer' an' took her off with him to his castle. Ain't nobody heard from her since."

"Hmm," Ullden shook his head, unsure what to make of the story. "I have a friend who might come looking here as I am. His name is Wellar. Has he inquired here, perchance?"

"No, I don't reckon I've heard that name afore," the man answered.

"Could I leave a message in case he does come by?"

"I guess," the man shrugged. "I ain't no messenger service, mind you, but I don't see how it could hurt."

Ullden pulled a piece of paper, pen, and ink from his pack and quickly jotted down a message for Wellar. He tucked the pen and ink away before blowing on the paper to dry the ink. When he was sure it was dry enough, he folded it and handed it over to the shopkeeper.

"My name is Ullden. If Wellar should come here and inquire, please give this to him for me." He also handed the man a couple of coins for his trouble, and the man thanked him before putting the message into a cubby on the wall behind him. Ullden left the shop frowning. In the message he'd mentioned that he'd be camping on the hill outside the city walls. He wondered if Wellar would even be able to find him amongst so many people. A glance at the storm clouds gathering in the sky made him frown all the more. He headed down and got Banks, heading outside the keep walls again. He knew he wanted to get his tent up and Banks unsaddled and brushed before it rained.

The hill was a gentle one, and he found a spot on it big enough for him. He started with his tent first. It was a little one, barely big enough for him to sit up in, but it kept the rain out. The slope of the hill was gentle enough that he wouldn't have to worry too much about rain runoff coming down the hill at him, which was good.

He got the tent up and was moving his gear into it when the first peal of thunder rolled through. Some people were still behind him in getting tents up, and those people quickened their pace with assorted looks of alarm. It was still daytime, but the heavy clouds dimmed the day considerably.

He was brushing Banks when the first drops fell. Once started, the rain grew in force quickly. He stood in the rain, brushing. He chuckled as he watched people around him scurrying to finish what they were doing to get inside. His biggest annoyance was that firewood, which might already be growing scarce, would all be wet.

He tethered Banks to a stake he'd put in alongside his tent. The brown mare would have some grass to munch on, but it wouldn't really have any value. Once the rain let up he'd give her some oats from his supplies.

He crawled into the tent and started stripping off his armor. It had only been a little rain so far, but he dried off what he could. He took a rag and some oil and gave the armor a light oiling. He made it a rule to take care of his armor. The armor had taken care of him more than once.

When he was done he lay back and put his hands under his head. He stared up at the canvas listening to the drops pitter-patter on it as they came down still a little more heavily. There was more thunder, but so far it didn't sound immediately close by or overly threatening. He relaxed and listened to it, wondering what he would do if Wellar didn't show.