Read Online The Vlakan King (Book 3) by Jim Greenfield - Free Book Online
Authors: Jim Greenfield
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"Davan, don't worry; Ian will be back by morning. You'll see."
"Goodnight, Brevin."
"Davan! Open up!"
The pounding on the front door jolted Davan from his pallet behind the bar. Several people were at the door. He recognized the voice of Hargman, the butcher. He unbolted the door and opened it. Hargman and two other men were carrying his father. They hurried in and laid him on the bar. Jaele had come downstairs and lighted the lamps.
"Is he alive?" asked Jaele.
"Yes," said Torrey, the stable boy. "Cragor found him up in the woods and came to the stables and roused me."
Jaele put a coat under Ian's head. "Why you?" she asked gently.
"I'm his friend," Torrey said to the strange expressions of the others. "Cragor had no one else to tell."
"Torrey's my friend," agreed Cragor, who smelled worse than usual.
"He doesn't seem to be injured," said Hargman. "Except for cuts and scrapes probably from brambles."
"Davan, be a dear and give these men ale. Even young Torrey. I can't thank you enough for bringing him back."
"Mumbling," said Cragor.
"What did you say dear?" asked Jaele. Cragor flushed at Jaele calling him 'dear'.
"Mister Ian was mumbling when I found him. Something about vera-lyre or some such. Had to reach vera-lyre."
"What else did he say?"
"Nothing I could make out. He passed out and I ran for Torrey."
"Yes, Torrey knocked on my door and we went and brought Ian here," said Hargman. "Ian said nothing while I was with him."
Jaele washed her husband's face. "He seems to be resting easy now."
"Do you want us to carry him upstairs?" asked Hargman.
"No, that's okay. I'll setup a spot for him here. He's restful now and I don't want to disturb him for a while. We don't open for a couple hours. Take your time with your ale."
Jaele sat in silence watching the sleeping form of her husband. The men had left and Davan fell back to sleep on his pallet. Ian murmured from time to time but nothing she could interpret.
When the sun rose, Ian's eyes opened and he sat up.
"Ian? Are you okay?" asked Jaele.
"Yes, I think so. How did I get on the bar?"
"You wandered off and no one could find you until last night. What happened?"
"I. I don't remember. I was unloading Ferran's wagon and I felt ill. I don't remember what happened after that." He hopped down and kissed Jaele.
"Did I worry you? I'm sorry."
"You don't remember anything?"
"Not a thing, but I feel great now. Whatever it was it passed." He grinned at Jaele.
"Ian, you were gone since yesterday afternoon and Cragor found you after midnight in the woods."
"That's strange."
"Ian, why would you want to contact Kerreth Veralier?"
"What do you mean?"
"Cragor said when he found you; you were talking about finding Veralier. Do you remember why?"
Ian shook his head. "I haven't thought about Kerreth for months."
"Please Ian, try to remember. It must have been important."
"Maybe I had a fever and it brought up old memories."
"Maybe."
"I'd better start preparing to open." He unshuttered the windows, unbolted the door and opened it. A cool wind filled the room. Ian took a deep breath and walked over to Davan's pallet and nudged the boy awake.
"Dad?"
"Hi Davan. I feel great. Let's get to work."
Davan peppered his father with questions and Ian answered him honestly. Jaele watched them for a time, not seeing anything to trouble her. She turned and saw Brevin standing on the lower step of the stairs. They shared a glance and Brevin went to a table.
"'Morning Ian, Davan."
"Brevin! I thought I smelled you," said Ian.
"Good to see you too," said Brevin.
"I'm just going to stoke up the cooking fire," said Ian. "Give him some ale, Davan. The man will fall out of his chair without ale." He went into the kitchen. Davan drew an ale and brought it over to the trader.
"Your dad's in a fine mood this morning."
"He acts like he had a long nap. Doesn't remember anything after mid-day yesterday."
"Curious."
The day passed without any unusual events and that night
"Goodnight, Brevin."
"Davan! Open up!"
The pounding on the front door jolted Davan from his pallet behind the bar. Several people were at the door. He recognized the voice of Hargman, the butcher. He unbolted the door and opened it. Hargman and two other men were carrying his father. They hurried in and laid him on the bar. Jaele had come downstairs and lighted the lamps.
"Is he alive?" asked Jaele.
"Yes," said Torrey, the stable boy. "Cragor found him up in the woods and came to the stables and roused me."
Jaele put a coat under Ian's head. "Why you?" she asked gently.
"I'm his friend," Torrey said to the strange expressions of the others. "Cragor had no one else to tell."
"Torrey's my friend," agreed Cragor, who smelled worse than usual.
"He doesn't seem to be injured," said Hargman. "Except for cuts and scrapes probably from brambles."
"Davan, be a dear and give these men ale. Even young Torrey. I can't thank you enough for bringing him back."
"Mumbling," said Cragor.
"What did you say dear?" asked Jaele. Cragor flushed at Jaele calling him 'dear'.
"Mister Ian was mumbling when I found him. Something about vera-lyre or some such. Had to reach vera-lyre."
"What else did he say?"
"Nothing I could make out. He passed out and I ran for Torrey."
"Yes, Torrey knocked on my door and we went and brought Ian here," said Hargman. "Ian said nothing while I was with him."
Jaele washed her husband's face. "He seems to be resting easy now."
"Do you want us to carry him upstairs?" asked Hargman.
"No, that's okay. I'll setup a spot for him here. He's restful now and I don't want to disturb him for a while. We don't open for a couple hours. Take your time with your ale."
Jaele sat in silence watching the sleeping form of her husband. The men had left and Davan fell back to sleep on his pallet. Ian murmured from time to time but nothing she could interpret.
When the sun rose, Ian's eyes opened and he sat up.
"Ian? Are you okay?" asked Jaele.
"Yes, I think so. How did I get on the bar?"
"You wandered off and no one could find you until last night. What happened?"
"I. I don't remember. I was unloading Ferran's wagon and I felt ill. I don't remember what happened after that." He hopped down and kissed Jaele.
"Did I worry you? I'm sorry."
"You don't remember anything?"
"Not a thing, but I feel great now. Whatever it was it passed." He grinned at Jaele.
"Ian, you were gone since yesterday afternoon and Cragor found you after midnight in the woods."
"That's strange."
"Ian, why would you want to contact Kerreth Veralier?"
"What do you mean?"
"Cragor said when he found you; you were talking about finding Veralier. Do you remember why?"
Ian shook his head. "I haven't thought about Kerreth for months."
"Please Ian, try to remember. It must have been important."
"Maybe I had a fever and it brought up old memories."
"Maybe."
"I'd better start preparing to open." He unshuttered the windows, unbolted the door and opened it. A cool wind filled the room. Ian took a deep breath and walked over to Davan's pallet and nudged the boy awake.
"Dad?"
"Hi Davan. I feel great. Let's get to work."
Davan peppered his father with questions and Ian answered him honestly. Jaele watched them for a time, not seeing anything to trouble her. She turned and saw Brevin standing on the lower step of the stairs. They shared a glance and Brevin went to a table.
"'Morning Ian, Davan."
"Brevin! I thought I smelled you," said Ian.
"Good to see you too," said Brevin.
"I'm just going to stoke up the cooking fire," said Ian. "Give him some ale, Davan. The man will fall out of his chair without ale." He went into the kitchen. Davan drew an ale and brought it over to the trader.
"Your dad's in a fine mood this morning."
"He acts like he had a long nap. Doesn't remember anything after mid-day yesterday."
"Curious."
The day passed without any unusual events and that night
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