"Well, I don't care for these shadows," Rig said. "And I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." His hands tightly gripped his mare's reins, the wet leather cutting into his finger joints, and his eyes drifting from one side of the street to the other, looking for a face with the tiniest spark of friendliness. "We're definitely out of place here, Fiona. I'm so uncomfortable my skin feels like ants're crawling all over it."
"Wait, there're some humans here." Fiona leaned forward in her saddle and pointed west, down a side street they were passing.
Indeed there were about a dozen men, dressed even worse than the ogres. They were toting sacks from a building and tossing them into a wagon that sagged and looked stuck in the mud. There were words cut into a sign that hung from the building, but Rig and Fiona had no clue what they meant. Two mountain dwarves were working with the humans-and unlike the ogres and half-ogres, none of them seemed to be carrying visible weapons.
"I truly don't like this," the mariner continued. "In fact…" He cast his head over his shoulder, looking at the gate receding behind them. "Fiona, I think we should…"
"Maldred! You handsome swine!" A booming voice cut through the air, followed by loud, sloshing footsteps. "It has been too long indeed!" The speaker was an ogre, one of the better dressed of the lot, who was splashing his way through the puddles toward them. He had massive shoulders, from which draped a black bear skin, the head of the animal resting to the side of his thick neck, the rear claws dangling down to rake the mud. He continued talking loudly, though in the ogre tongue now, the bear head bobbing along with his broad gestures.
Maldred walked into the ogre's embrace. But the ogre quickly backed away when he noted Maldred's condition. Gesturing at Maldred's bad arm, the creature eyed the rest of the entourage, quickly determining that the half-elf and the other human were also injured. He chuckled deeply when he spotted Fetch. The kobold scampered down from the wagon and practically swam through a puddle to reach the pair.
"Durfang!" Fetch squealed. "It's Durfang Farnwerth!"
"Fetch! You stinking rat! I haven't seen you in years!" the ogre boomed in the common tongue-apparently for Fetch's benefit. He bent over and scratched the kobold's head. "Seems you have not been taking good care of my friend-or his companions."
The kobold shrugged and cackled shrilly.
"You folks need a healer," the ogre continued, standing and meeting Maldred's gaze. "A good one."
Maldred nodded, pointing to Dhamon and Rikali. "My friends, first."
The creature scowled and wriggled his lips. "As you desire, Maldred," Durfang finally said. Then his eyes drifted to Fiona, narrowing with curiosity. He returned to the ogre tongue, speaking to Maldred quick and low, his face animated and concerned-relaxing only after Maldred said something evidently reassuring. "Okay, all of you, follow me."
"To Grim Kedar's?" Maldred asked.
"He is the best."
"Then I will meet you there shortly, Durfang. I have a cargo to arrange safe-keeping for. And that takes precedence over my well-being."
The large ogre scowled, but didn't argue.
Dhamon leapt from the wagon, cringing at the strain. He sloshed toward Maldred, using gestures rather than talking, the quickness of hands hinting at an argument.
"The cargo will be safe with me," Maldred whispered.
Dhamon's eyes became slits, flickering between Maldred and Durfang.
"On my life, Dhamon," Maldred added. "You know we have to keep the wagon somewhere tonight, or maybe for the next few days depending on when Donnag will see us to negotiate over the sword you want. He might not be available immediately. And we just can't leave the wagon out on the street. Not in this city. And if we guard it, the scurrilous element will only become curious. We can't take that risk."
"How about a stable?"
Maldred shook his head. "Not safe enough. Too public. Too many people going in and out."
"Where then?" Dhamon asked, his voice difficult for Maldred to hear above the rain.
"I have friends in this city whom I can rely on and who owe me a few favors. I'll see who among them seems the most trustworthy today."
Dhamon nodded. "On your life, then. But just in case, I'm keeping some trinkets with me." He returned to the wagon, tugging a backpack from beneath the seat and throwing it over his shoulder. "And be quick about it, Mai. You need tending far more than Riki and I."
Rikali and Fetch each claimed a small, gem-stuffed satchel before Maldred drove the wagon away, cleverly ignoring the mariner's persistent questions about what kind of supplies they had brought to Bloten to sell. Dhamon knew Rig didn't believe for a moment there were genuine supplies under the tarp.
