fall. He jumped right as Dennison’s motley crew started forcing the door to his room open. Gentry scrambled off the hay bales and then bolted to the stable to retrieve Casper.
The small desk proved to be quite sturdy and had held the men back for a while, but eventually they broke through and swarmed the room. Dennison noticed the open window and poked his head out into the alleyway. Alas, he did not see anything; the alleyway was deserted. “Wizards be damned!” he shouted, slamming the window closed and then kicking the desk that had held them back. Dennison left the room in a foul mood; his entourage followed behind not daring to say a word.
Gentry arrived at the stable door out of breath. “Make haste, boy! I must leave with my horse at once!”
The stable boy jumped up and had Casper out in no time. He could tell the kind man was in trouble, so without even thinking about it he said, “Sir, there is a brown house at the left fork in the road heading north. You shall be safe there.”
Gentry thanked the boy and took off riding Casper as fast as the horse could go. Gentry was panicked and therefore eager to make his way to the Colton Gap and be done with Colton (and Dennison) for good, but nightfall was fast approaching and that gave him pause. The mountain pass was difficult enough to traverse in the day time with all the steep cliffs and rocky ledges, not to mention the possibility of a sudden storm coming through. This time he remembered his father’s words of caution, and at the fork in the road, Gentry turned left and sought out the brown house.
The sun’s final rays were shining over the Cook Mountains to the west, providing just enough light for Gentry to make out a little shack of a brown house down the road, mostly obscured by trees. As he approached he noticed a little shed behind the house and brought Casper inside. It was not a true stable, but there was a little bit of hay on the ground and enough space for Casper to turn around, so it would do for the night. Gentry found a well, retrieved some water for Casper and started rubbing the horse down.
*************
After some time the boy arrived. He had brought Casper’s food, which had been left behind in the rush. The horse chowed down on some oats and carrots and settled in for the night. The boy then brought Gentry inside the little brown house. “You may sleep in my bed for tonight. I do not mind.”
“Luca, is that you?”
The unfamiliar voice in the dark startled Gentry.
“Aye, mother. I am home,” replied the boy.
“And whom were you speaking to just now?” she demanded.
Luca had finally lit the one oil lamp in the house and Gentry was able to see a frail woman lying on a couch in the adjacent room.
“My name is Gentry, madam. Your son was kind enough to offer me and my horse shelter for the night.”
“Why are you not staying at the Settler’s Inn?” she inquired, suspicious of the stranger standing in her house.
“It was too crowded,” the boy interjected. “Have you eaten yet, mother?” Luca was determined to change the subject.
“No, I am not hungry anyway. But there is some pottage for you and your friend.”
Gentry watched as the woman took a long drink of some ale – or was that whiskey? – before pulling a blanket over her. It was not long before she was sound asleep.
Luca prepared a small bowl of pottage and offered it to Gentry. He declined it, though he gladly accepted the offer of tea. As Luca gobbled down his heavy stew, they started talking.
“Where is your father?” Gentry asked, as he poured himself another cup of tea.
Luca did not immediately respond. “He died a few years ago. The physician told us his heart stopped working.” The boy’s voice was quiet and sad.
“I am sorry, Luca.” The question had been innocent enough – a feeble attempt to start a conversation. I should have known better, Gentry thought. The father was not here. Clearly he was either dead or gone. No good could
The small desk proved to be quite sturdy and had held the men back for a while, but eventually they broke through and swarmed the room. Dennison noticed the open window and poked his head out into the alleyway. Alas, he did not see anything; the alleyway was deserted. “Wizards be damned!” he shouted, slamming the window closed and then kicking the desk that had held them back. Dennison left the room in a foul mood; his entourage followed behind not daring to say a word.
Gentry arrived at the stable door out of breath. “Make haste, boy! I must leave with my horse at once!”
The stable boy jumped up and had Casper out in no time. He could tell the kind man was in trouble, so without even thinking about it he said, “Sir, there is a brown house at the left fork in the road heading north. You shall be safe there.”
Gentry thanked the boy and took off riding Casper as fast as the horse could go. Gentry was panicked and therefore eager to make his way to the Colton Gap and be done with Colton (and Dennison) for good, but nightfall was fast approaching and that gave him pause. The mountain pass was difficult enough to traverse in the day time with all the steep cliffs and rocky ledges, not to mention the possibility of a sudden storm coming through. This time he remembered his father’s words of caution, and at the fork in the road, Gentry turned left and sought out the brown house.
The sun’s final rays were shining over the Cook Mountains to the west, providing just enough light for Gentry to make out a little shack of a brown house down the road, mostly obscured by trees. As he approached he noticed a little shed behind the house and brought Casper inside. It was not a true stable, but there was a little bit of hay on the ground and enough space for Casper to turn around, so it would do for the night. Gentry found a well, retrieved some water for Casper and started rubbing the horse down.
*************
After some time the boy arrived. He had brought Casper’s food, which had been left behind in the rush. The horse chowed down on some oats and carrots and settled in for the night. The boy then brought Gentry inside the little brown house. “You may sleep in my bed for tonight. I do not mind.”
“Luca, is that you?”
The unfamiliar voice in the dark startled Gentry.
“Aye, mother. I am home,” replied the boy.
“And whom were you speaking to just now?” she demanded.
Luca had finally lit the one oil lamp in the house and Gentry was able to see a frail woman lying on a couch in the adjacent room.
“My name is Gentry, madam. Your son was kind enough to offer me and my horse shelter for the night.”
“Why are you not staying at the Settler’s Inn?” she inquired, suspicious of the stranger standing in her house.
“It was too crowded,” the boy interjected. “Have you eaten yet, mother?” Luca was determined to change the subject.
“No, I am not hungry anyway. But there is some pottage for you and your friend.”
Gentry watched as the woman took a long drink of some ale – or was that whiskey? – before pulling a blanket over her. It was not long before she was sound asleep.
Luca prepared a small bowl of pottage and offered it to Gentry. He declined it, though he gladly accepted the offer of tea. As Luca gobbled down his heavy stew, they started talking.
“Where is your father?” Gentry asked, as he poured himself another cup of tea.
Luca did not immediately respond. “He died a few years ago. The physician told us his heart stopped working.” The boy’s voice was quiet and sad.
“I am sorry, Luca.” The question had been innocent enough – a feeble attempt to start a conversation. I should have known better, Gentry thought. The father was not here. Clearly he was either dead or gone. No good could
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