Chapt. 1

Rhu’s head was bent low over the pile of ancient books scattered on top of the library table. The arched windows high above him were beginning to filter in a grayish light making him aware of the lateness of the hour. He shifted in his chair rolling his head on his stiff shoulders. Out from behind a row of bookshelves appeared a massive multicolored feline nearly half the height of the halfling. The large cat leaped to the top of yet unopened books landing lightly next to Rhu and settled down to a face wash.

“Oh, Fur, there you are. I’d thought you’d left me long ago. We’ll never get through all these books today, and even if we did it may not even be here!” said Rhu, drawing ever-increasing circles in the dust with his finger. His companion stared at him, amber and gold-flecked irises disappearing and reappearing as he blinked.

“If I were going to leave you, my friend, it would have been after that raft trip that left us stranded on Hawk Island for days. My fur was matted down with salt and stinking of brackish water and dead fish!” he mindspoke. Furtom began to vigorously lick his luxurious tortoise colored coat, shuttering at the old memory. That had been many years ago, before Rhu had reached his adulthood and before… “It took me weeks to get clean. That was a damned foolish….”

Rhu cut him off, “Come on, old friend, you’re tired of this place as I am. Let’s get something to eat. The light is almost gone and my stomach is growling louder than a
Timber wolf. The docks should sport a good inn and hearty provender for fair fellows such as ourselves.”

Rhu reached up to gave the absent cat a stroke. Fur took food seriously and was winding his way through the table legs heading for the library door. Rhu traced a pattern in the air with his hand and turned his back on the mountain of words. A slight shimmer, barely visible hung in the shaft of fading summer sunlight above the books.

The library was housed in the oldest building belonging to the Mage School. They had only been allowed in the public half of the library and had been given strict warnings not to wander into the mage’s private sections. The warnings were unnecessary. Rhu could feel the magic wards protecting the secrets of the ancient tomes. He had left a small “keep off” spell on the books and the place he had been working to insure his own privacy. Not a large spell or a complicated one, but sufficient. His mother had had some magic. That was why they sent him here. At least that’s what he thought most of the time. At night, looking up at the stars he wasn’t so sure.

Now outside in the fresh air away from the school grounds, he felt the tension loosen in his shoulders. Fur padded silently next to Rhu, past the large houses of the council members and city officials, through the central city square with the stone government buildings facing inward, on past merchants houses and along on to Market Street with it’s shop fronts displaying every imaginable ware. Old Town was a busy port and what they didn’t manufacture in the surrounding areas they traded for. Every day ships laden with exotic treasures unloaded at the docks only to be restocked and head out again.

As they wound downward toward the docks, the storefronts gave way to merchant stalls. The houses became smaller and drabber while the taverns became larger and more colorful.

Rhu and Fur picked the inn set back from the street with the copper pig hanging from a bit of wrought iron fancy. As they passed through an archway from the street into an ancient courtyard the din of street noise was replaced by the clang of a blacksmith’s hammer and the friendly cacophony of inn’s animal residents. A pig with squealing piglets, the tinkle of goat bells and the cackle of hen’s laying for the breakfast eggs. Although he couldn’t see her he knew there would be a cow to provide fresh milk and butter and a hen house in the back for eggs. The rooster was visible, perched on a roof peak crowing his harsh welcome and asserting his dominance over this disorderly domain. Itinerant geese lead the tiny procession across the packed dirt toward the blue shuttered two-story building. The deep green front door had seen better days; nicks and chips marred its surface but the brass on the door handle and knocker were worn shinny with use, a welcoming patina.

Before Rhu could reach for the knob, the door was flung open with a bang its wide space immediately filled with one of the largest men he had ever seen. The innkeeper’s head was turned and his booming voice was directed back into the tavern. He was carrying a large bucket filled with an unidentifiable gruel. Fur wrinkled his nose and flattened his ears against his head. The smell made his eyes water. At twice Rhu’s height, they were effectively hidden from the ale mans view by his bucket and his belly. Had he not stopped his forward motion to shout orders back into the main room he would have surely stepped on the twosome.

“Struth!” the large man started, “Who’s there?” He swiveled his bucket sideways and looked down, a splash of slops escaping the bucket. “Hey there now, watch were you’re a goin’. We don’t want to lose any guests by stepping on them,” he said, the crinkle in his eyes belayed the blast of his voice; a moment later a smile appeared on his lips.

“Step in! Step in!” he beamed down on them, and then realized they could hardly pass with him filling up the doorway.

Fur jumped backwards to avoid the sloshing mixture, as the ale man twirled adroitly despite his size, rearranging himself and the bucket to allow them entry. He then headed off across the court hard to the pigsty. “Make yourselves comfortable,” was flung back over his shoulder and then a burst of song could be heard receding with the smell as he crossed the yard.

The companions waited until their eyes and ears adjusted to the new assault on their senses. The sun had nearly set and the large common room was alive with people jostling and shouting to friends, edging toward tables, clinking glasses celebrating another day. Dock workers and sailors, travelers and scholars stood shoulder to shoulder at the bar, awaiting their wet reward.

Near the door, a table of dwarves, picks and hammers at their side, were washing the dust from their throats and awaiting their hardy provender. Rhu and Fur edged past them and took a space at a low round table. Fur hopped up and wrapped his tail around his body resting the tip across his front paws. “Not many other companions. I see the usual parrots, some fire lizards and a few voles, and if my superior nostrils do not deceive me, a vixen hiding under someone’s chair.” Rhu’s eyes involuntarily looked for the fox, but he couldn’t see her.

Not everyone made the bond with an animal/companion. It usually happened when both were young and had the time to make the bond complete to mindspeak. Some relationships never progressed that far; some animal partners didn’t live long enough to make it possible. All were special and the death of either member of the couple was tragic for the other. Rhu and Fur eyed the room carefully.

Tables and chairs covered every spare inch of floor space so that the innkeeper’s serving staff was wisely chosen from the tall and thin side of his family, although they were as bright and colorfully dressed as the ale man himself. Fur hoped the cooks came from the fatter side of the family. Most of the guests in the dining room were more somberly dressed, common folks looking forward to a good meal and a night’s rest. “ Asher and Shin were right about this place,” Rhu said, gesturing to a woman carrying a tray filled with cold ales. The sight was heavenly after the dusty tomes and long walk. “It looks like a good place to stay and we may hear some news from the West.” He caught her eye.

The girl, her tray now filled with empty glasses for the return trip, promptly appeared at their table. “What can I do for you stranger? Are you lodger or passing through? We’ve stew tonight or chops and taters. You’ll have to pay now if your not staying. Nothing live for your friend,” she nodded at Fur, “We don’t do nothin’ live at the tables. Could get you some rabbit too, but it would cost you extra. The stew’s good. What’ll it be?”

Her rapid-fire questions, pitched above the din of the dinning room, turned a few eyes in their direction. The words were spit out staccato fashion, keeping time with the rhythmic tapping of her foot. Her entire body was in constant motion. Rhu felt as if he had to answer all her questions in a hurry before she ran off and he lost the chance to order his meal.

“An ale for me, water for my friend here, please, and a room for the night,” Rhu paused for breath. “Ah, and nothing live, we’ll both have the…” but she was gone before his could finish. The guests who thought they might see some bloodshed realized the possibility of a show was over and turned their curious eyes elsewhere.

“Live!” he pronounced it ‘lie-ive’

“I guess they are not up for finer side of having a carnivore companion. As if I would sport with one of their unconscious farm animals,” indignation bristled Fur’s whiskers.

“Maybe they’re afraid you’ll eat one of them.”

“I do not eat sentient being of any kind as you well know!” Fur trashed his tail, “To even suggest it!”

“Well, don’t get huffy. I’m too tired to look for another inn. Asher and Shin wouldn’t have steered us wrong.” Rhu scratched behind Fur’s ear, a favorite spot on the big cat.

Asher and Shin were the oldest pair of companions on the mountain. They sat at the head of the Elders council, well respected by all and beloved by Rhu’s tribe. Asher had seen nearly a hundred summers and he could still run among the trees. The youngsters had an easier time catching him of late but he could still be seen every morning following Shin’s flight with his sharp eyes as she soared into the sun of each new day. Checking up on her children, he would say. Most assumed he meant the many generations of fledgling of whom she was matriarch, but Asher knew that she thought of all the peoples of the mountain as her children.

The ale arrived first, thumped without ceremony, in front of the pair. “Water,” Rhu shot at the retreating back. Fur sniffed at the foamy head on the beer, then delicately touched his tongue droplets clinging to the side of the glass. A rumble came from the soothed throat. “You could learn to like the stuff, Fur.” The halfling’s hand closed around the glass and lifted it to his lips. “It’s good ale.”

“I’ll settle for the dew drops. All I need to do is to get as silly as you after a few of those and they won’t serve me anything dead in here either.”

Rhu grinned at his friend. He had seen him that silly, but only on very rare occasions.

The big cat was cleaning the last flecks of gravy from his face and paws when two dark men in dark cloaks that dusted the floor entered the tavern. The crowd parted for them as they crossed the room toward the bar. The taller of the two men leaned toward the barkeeper and spoke for a few minutes in a low voice. The barkeep shook his head “no” and finally put up a palm as if to ward off any more questions. The intruder pursed his lips and looked silently at the man behind the bar. Finally he pointed to the beer spigot. The man moved reluctantly to pull two glasses and handed them to the strangers.

The intruder threw a few coins on the bar and turned around. His dark glance pierced the silent crowd. People turned back to their meals, not wanting to be the target of his gaze. The noise began to return to the room.

“Gray Cloaks,” some grumbled, carefully under their breath, their heads turned away from the strangers.

“Fighters. Working for the…” The voices were lost as the room’s volume picked up. Fur’s delicate ears picked up the few odd words like “magical” and “uncanny” but no one seemed to know for sure who they were and why they were there.

A fire had been lit in the mammoth jaws of stone, which took up most of the room’s west wall providing light and unwanted heat. But it would get cooler as the night wore on. Pots and kettles were hanging from iron hooks filled with tea and fresh water for the night traveler. They were waiting for the evening’s entertainment.