Heden was wrong. They got back to the inn half an hour before dawn.

When the door opened, everyone in the inn stood. Fathers and mothers had, with one exception, reunited with daughters and sons. No one had left.

Heden walked in unceremoniously with the body of the carter’s wife slung over his shoulder and went straight to the closest table in the inn. He carefully unloaded her and put her on it. The woodsman came in behind with the son carried in her arms and stood in the doorway, not sure what to do.

Heden stood next to the table, looking down. No one moved. Heden was covered in blood and black ichorous stains soaked his armor and covered his face.

“They’re alive,” Heden said.

At this pronouncement, the townspeople came and relieved the woodsman of her burden and surrounded the table with the carter’s wife on it. They all began talking to each other at once.

As the folk came and gently took the unconscious boy from the woodsman, she looked at them, people she didn’t know. She looked dazed. She was breathing in fits, hair matted with rain and blood. Her black leather armor was wet and slick, but it was impossible to tell whether with water or blood or both. But she smelled like an abattoir.

“He’s got a…” the woodsman gasped as they took the boy from her, sweating in spite of the cold. “He’s got a flying carpet,” she said.

The townspeople appeared not to be listening. Relieved of her burden, she collapsed into a chair.

Heden found the innkeeper and gently pulled him away from the concerned crowd. He pointed silently to the bar. The innkeep looked in Heden’s eyes, and nodded.

As he scurried behind the bar, Heden said “and meat. And bread. And cheese.”

The innkeep went through a door that led down into the cellar.

Heden leaned on the bar. Dade and Jeremy, their father behind them, stood and looked at Heden’s back.

“We could’ve taken care of it,” Dade said. His father frowned and tried to silence him, but his heart wasn’t in it.

Heden gave no response, no indication he heard anything.

“This wasn’t your problem,” Dade continued. “Why did you do it?” The young man was demanding now.

The innkeep came up with a large platter covered in unprepared food. He began cutting and slicing. No one had eaten while Heden and the woodsman were gone

“Does it…” Jeremy said. “It is because of the kethat? Do you hate them?”

Heden realized that while they’d been gone, the townsfolk had been guessing at why a man would assume this burden, this risk, to rescue people he didn’t know so that other people he didn’t know wouldn’t have to. Maybe he really hates the keth, they reasoned.

In Heden’s experience, people didn’t understand him even when he explained himself. And he’d already explained himself once.

Heden grabbed a large chunk of duck from the innkeep’s plate, some cheese, and turned to face the three men.

He took a bite of the duck, and talked while he chewed.

“Doesn’t matter why,” he said. “They’re alive, you’re alive. Everyone’s here, safe. And none of you had to kill anyone. You want to go out tomorrow with your friends,” he said, indicating young Wenna who was trying to listen without being noticed, “go out and have an adventure. Up to you. I won’t be here.

“Besides,” he said swallowing and taking a bite of the cheese. “It wasn’t just kethat.”

“Trolls,” the woman in black, the woodsman, said. She opened her mouth and tasted the air in the inn, she breathed heavily, eyes raised to the ceiling.

“Trolls?” the boys’ father said. “Trolls at the mine? That’s only…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Heden said, finishing the small amount of food he’d taken and pushing himself away from the bar.

“Who are you to say?!” The father said, his voice bouncing off the walls of the inn. “This is our town, our farms. It’s all we’ve got. And what happens when they come looking to avenge their dead? What happens to us, ratcatcher?!”

The confrontation, the attitude, didn’t bother Heden. People acted in all manners when confused and ignorant. It was natural.

“It doesn’t matter,” Heden said. “Because they’re all dead.”

Heden’s words hit the floor with the weight of finality, shocking the townsfolk.

“You killed them all?” the father whispered, looking Heden up and down, and then looking at the woodsman.

“Unless someone starts working the mine, more kethat will come. They like mines. Caves. It’s natural for them. The trolls I can’t explain.”

“Will there be,” another man in the inn began. “What happens if there are more trolls?”

Heden didn’t smile, he nodded at Dade and Jeremy. “You’ve got a whole passel of heroes here, champing at the bit.” Perhaps a little bitterness crept into his voice at the end.

The townsfolk argued amongst themselves. One man slowly extricated himself from the knot of bickering farmers, carpenters and tanners, and approached. He was shivering and thin and wan and covered in a thick heavy blanket. Heden knew who it was.

He came forward and extended his hand.

“That’s my wife and son you rescued,” the carter said.

Heden nodded and took the man’s hand.

“I don’t know why you did what you did, but we owe you our lives.”

Heden released his grip and shook his head. “I just got your family back,” he said. “The boys and their friends there rescued you. Didn’t need my help.”

The carter looked at him, gratitude and compassion and confusion working their way around his face.

“I’m looking for a place called Durham Keep,” Heden said.

“Everyone here knows it,” the carter said. “It’s the seat of the Barony. Just take the road north” he said.

“Heden,” the woodsman said.

Heden turned to see her looking only barely recovered from their ordeal.

“I’m going past the Keep,” she said, pushing her hair out of her face. “I’ll take you. But not on that thing.”

Heden might have smiled a little. “Ok,” he said. “But we leave now, no rest.”

She nodded, looking at the floor.

“Your name’s Heden?” The innkeep asked.

Heden suddenly went numb. The innkeep had stopped moving, like the Harlequin after its magic had run out. He was just staring ahead at nothing.

Heden nodded once.

“You were with the Sunbringers?”

Heden didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at the innkeep. Everyone in the inn was staring at him. The rain outside had slowed to a trickle, grey light was starting to come through the window.

“My sister lived in Ǽndrim,” the innkeep said lifelessly.

Heden snatched up his backpack. The woodsman stood and looked between Heden and the innkeep, confused.

The innkeep looked from Heden to the woman and boy who were clinging to the carter.

“Get out,” the innkeep said to no one in particular, his voice choked.

Heden was already leaving.

On to Chapter Sixteen!

Chapter 15