NO STEALING/COPYING ANYTHING FROM THIS EXCERPT. IT IS COPYRIGHTED BY ME.
As they made their way down the street, Keallan managed to steal several pieces of fruit, a couple different types of vegetables, and a block of cheese before both his knapsack and Kian’s got full.
“This is madness!”Airik hissed as they continued on through the city. “We’re going to get—”
There was a shout from behind them, and Alerion whirled around. The man who had been selling the bread was standing in the street, along with several burly guards.
“Were you going to say caught?”Merlo snapped. “Well, you were right!”
“Let’s go!” Alerion exclaimed, turning and racing down the street.
He heard pounding footsteps behind him, and he knew his friends were following. Alerion, knowing better now than to duck into dark alleyways, continued on down the street, nervously looking for a place to hide.
After not seeing anything for several minutes, Alerion dashed towards the first building he saw: a place called the Roaming Wanderer Tavern and Inn.
He lunged for the door and wrenched it open. As he did so, he slammed into someone and stumbled backwards. He dodged past the person and ran inside, and his friends quickly followed, ignoring the fact that there were several men in the tavern already.
The person Alerion had run into was tall and broad-shouldered. His hair was shoulder-length, and a golden-brown color. He had a well-trimmed beard and mustache; more of a goatee than an actual beard. His eyes were a dark brown.
“Well, what’s the rush, little one?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Alerion would have felt irked, except that this was neither the time nor the place for it.“They’re…chasing us.”
“Bide us a little time, friend?” Keallan asked, glancing at the door.
“I’m not so sure I should, but I will,” the man replied. He headed towards the door. “Run upstairs; my room is the last one on the right. It’s unlocked. Go on in and wait for me.”
Alerion did not need to be told twice, and raced for the stairs. He could hear his friends following close after him.
He did not stop until he reached the last room. He yanked the door open and hurried inside, breathing hard.
Looking around, he quickly concluded that there was almost nothing in the room; a few items of clothing, some furniture, and an empty glass. No wonder he so willingly told us to come up here. He has no need to worry about us stealing something.
His friends ran in; Airik slammed the door shut behind them. “That was close,” he panted, giving Keallan a reproachful look.
“Be thankful that the man at the door was willing to help us,” Keallan told him. “It could have been worse.”
“It still could be worse,” Merlo pointed out. “He could have told us to come up here just so we would be trapped and he could lead our pursuers right here to us.”
“Or, more than likely, he won’t,” Keallan replied. “After all, he could have just refused to help us, and where would we be now? Dead, or locked up in a prison cell somewhere.”
“Could you both please stop arguing?” Kian snapped.
Keallan fell silent, looking over at the window, then at Alerion.
Alerion quickly averted his gaze. I wish we could just stop being angry and just learn to be friends…
A few minutes later, the door swung open. The man from downstairs hurried in. He spun around and locked the door. Then he turned and fixed his brown gaze on the five.
Alerion felt like shrinking; it was as if he was underneath the stare of a noble king. For that was what this man looked like.
He wore a dark, wine-red tunic with tiny silver stars embroidered on it, along with a black leather tabard. A sword hung from a scabbard at his belt, and he had a dignified appearance.
Keallan had no such qualms about the man. He stood up straight and tall, as he always did. “Thank you for helping us,” he said.
“It was my pleasure,”replied the man. “I ask for nothing in return but your names. There are several of you, and I would prefer to address you by name rather by pointing at the person I’m talking to.”
So, Keallan introduced them all one by one, and then looked expectantly at the man, waiting for his name.
“I am Ingvar,” replied the man, bowing low.
“Do you have a last name?” Merlo asked, earning himself a reproving glare from Airik.
“I am from the Eastern Realm of Elani,” Ingvar explained. “I have no last name; I go by my father’s name.”
Merlo studied Ingvar for a long moment, apparently waiting for the name of his father. When Ingvar remained silent, he looked away, pretending to be interested in something outside the window.
“If you wish, you can stay here for the remainder of the night,” Ingvar said. “That is, if you don’t mind sleeping on the floor. I must admit I do that most nights; the beds in this inn aren’t exactly what you could call comfortable.”
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