The Chronicles of Outsider: Humble Beginnings by Justin Wayne

  ***

  Captain Robaine shook the man’s hand, slipping a small pouch of gold into it inconspicuously, and walked away quickly. His uniform, with the red raven against a black sun stitched upon them would be a dead giveaway in this part of town if he strayed too long. Head low and cape concealing the emblem on his chest he turned the corner into an alley and emerged on the opposite side near his office.

  It was exactly this advantage of a prime location near his sources that made his decision to move his office away from the guard’s tower permanent. He placed his key within the lock of his little structure’s door and turned it. The lack of resistance alerted him that the tumblers were down and it was already unlocked.

  He slipped his sword from its sheath and slowly eased it open. The inside was dark and cluttered, just the way he left it. Perhaps he had forgotten to lock the door. Sword back in its scabbard, he closed the door behind him and turned the bolt down.

  A pair of hands the size of his head clasped his shoulders and lifted him off the ground, turning him about, and pressed him against the wall. He shouted in alarm and reached for his sword but an iron grip caught his wrist as well. He searched the darkness in vain for he had no windows but found it unnecessary.

  “Only one kind of man could hold someone up with one hand and restrain them with the other.”

  A candle flashed to life passed its flame to a lantern. The immense outline of a Warrior appeared in front of him, another off to the right in the center of the room. He was lowered into a chair which was then slid to the table in the middle. The other turned about to face him, staring hard into his eyes with a tangible determination.

  “Dunawar.” Robaine addressed politely with an incline of his head. “Dradewen.” The Warrior chief smiled, wrinkles framing his mouth and just under his eyes, revealing his age in the firelight. The captain eyed the gray roots in the hair of the man across from him. “I see age has been to see you since last we met.”

  The Warrior’s deep throated chuckle shook the table. “And I see you still have the habit of forgetting your friends.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” Robaine replied shaking his head.

  “Oh come now!” Dunawar growled through grit teeth, all facades of pleasantries gone. “You’ve been to see one of your little contacts in the efforts of finding my dagger. Yet you neglected to share such information with me. I find this rude and ill thought out.”

  “I appreciate your concern and apologize for offending you. But this is an official matter of the guard. Which by the way.” Robaine stared straight into the Warrior’s stare. “I thought you might have been involved with the disappearance of one of my men. It might interest you to know that we found his body. As well as a dead beggar woman.”

  “You dare insult me with idle threats! You have nothing to associate me with such an act!”

  “Oh really? Because both of them have handprints the exact same size upon their heads, and I’d bet my right eye that yours are the perfect fit.”

  The room was silent, the tension so thick it was hard to breathe. Robaine tensed as he felt Dradewen place his saucer-sized hands on his shoulders and gave them a squeeze. Without straining in the slightest, the guard’s clavicles began to flex underhand.

  “Dradewen?” The boy’s father called. Instantly the pressure subsided. “I think that’s enough.” He leaned in close, so big that his upper half spanned the table until he was inches from the sweating Robaine’s face. “Tell me what you know.”

  The captain complied and nodded hurriedly as his shoulders were pressed again.

  “Okay, okay!” He sucked in a deep breath and shook his head. “The hobbit named Thomulus was last seen being taken away by a cloaked man, hands and feet bound.”

  This caught the Warrior unawares. “Another thief perhaps?”

  “Or someone with a score to settle.”

  “Well which way did they go?”

  Robaine stroked his hair back from his face. “Said they were going west. First town that direction would be Journ. But everyone says it’s—“

  “Haunted? Well we’re going to find out when we go there and string up that thief and this cloaked man!” Dunawar boasted. “Boy, go fetch Havig and tell him to prepare the horses. You and I will travel with Gren and Idvaren to Journ tomorrow morning!”

  The loyal son left immediately, leaving the captain and chief alone.

  “I expect you to stay out of this.” the bear of a man smirked, the pretense of friendship at the fore again. He slapped Robaine on the back as he walked past him to the door. “Or I’ll burn you to the ground within this windowless prison.